Finding Yourself
by FanFictionalDreams
Summary: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson coming to terms with there sexuality. (Please follow and review for more Chapter's!)
1. Chapter 1

**Finding yourself Chapter two**

lets see. I think I was eight or nine when I started to look at boys as something more than potential friends. It started with my friend eric. He was a year younger than me, having blond curly hair, a cherubic face and just a touch more than baby fat. We were wrestling on a hot summer day and we both were in shorts with no shirt. He eventually got on top and pinned me using his whole body. I didn't know why at the time, but I loved the feeling of him on top of me, his bare chest and mine touching with his weight on me. Even to this day I love the touch of bare skin to my chest, stomach, and of course, further on down. I don't remember having an erection, but I am sure I must have.

We did that several times until eric started to get uncomfortable wrestling with me. We just didn't wrestle any more. Eventually, about a year after we stopped wrestling, I moved away from my home town to Lima ohio It turned out that we were only going to be there a year since my Dad got laid off at the garage he worked at. I was in the fourth grade when I moved away, just ten years old. But it was up in Ohio that my sexual education really began. Literally.

The school system up there started teaching sex in the fourth grade. It was there I heard the words semen, erection, and orgasm for the first time. I overheard my parents one night trying to decide whether to allow me to attend or not. I think they let me see the films because it was easier than having to talk to me themselves.

I had friends up there, eventually. But one person stands out in my memory. His name was Stan. He was named after his father, had his blond hair in a bowl haircut (I must be attracted to blonds, eh?), and wore what I call birth control glasses (thick rims usually in an ugly brown color). He was, like me, a geek. We were both intelligent and small for our age which made us easy targets for the intellectually challenged. So we naturally took to each other right away.

Toward the end of my time in Ohio, our fifth grade session of sex ed went into more detail regarding the function of the plumbing and what came out and when. This, while just technical information, was vaguely arousing in some form. Stan and I would play act having girlfriends and getting caught in the act by her father or something like that. We never actually did anything other than playact. I enjoyed his company more than anyone else up to that point in my life because we were equals in all ways that mattered. But my Dad did get laid off and we had to move back to my home town.

My homecoming was difficult. I knew everybody, but I didn't. It was like I was in suspended animation and woke up a year later with everybody aging a year with out me. I still didn't know much about sex, but it seemed that everyone else was messing around and kissing. I didn't know how to react to this, so I didn't, and acted like this adolescent behavior was behind me. Then I met Blaine.

Bliane was a year older than I was but we were still in the same grade. He was a trombone player in our school band. Of average height and average build, he did look good. All the girls definitely noticed him. He was more popular than I, having played on the football and basketball teams. His dad was the Scoutmaster of our pack, so everyone in the Scouts knew him.

His dad, Joe, was also a fireman for the town we lived in, very big on the male scene. In his mid forties, he still had a youthful appearance, and kept himself in shape. Slightly gray at the temples, he none the less had a full head of hair and a chiseled face. He was into all of the macho stuff, like cars, hunting, fishing and such. Intellectual pursuits were not his forte.

Blaines mom was a stay at home housewife like June Cleaver. In her early forties, she seemed the perfect wife. Blond hair and a pretty face, she liked to dress well even for the housework. When Blaine asked Brenda about it one time, she said she like to look nice for his father. I somehow got the feeling that she didn't approve of me, but allowed Blaine to make his own choice of friends.

From all appearances Blaines family seemed perfect. A real man for a father, the devoted mother and housewife, the smart and beautiful child. We found out later that not everything was idyllic as they would have us believe.

Blaine and I somehow became friends. I don't remember how. But we ended up spending a lot of time together. By the beginning of the seventh grade, we were inseparable, being in several of the same classes. We sat by each other in every class, at least until the teachers split us up. We would eat lunch together, play on the same team in PE if we had a choice. And we would split our weekends, one at his house and the next at mine.

We would spend those weekend days out in the woods playing army or something else equally silly. We would have pinecone fights (it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye), catch tadpoles or frogs, whittle branches into small spears, generally do what twelve and thirteen year old boys do. We would talk about girls and sex and get terribly excited. I realize now it was because he was talking about sex that I got excited, not because of the girls we were talking about. It was all very innocent teen fantasies. I can't speak for him, but I was thinking almost exclusively about boys at this time, but our conversations always had a girl in them. Sometimes I got lost in the conversation because I was staring at him marveling at his beauty. I am still surprised he never caught on when he had to repeat himself so many times.

Neither of us up to this point had any sexual experience, relying instead on locker room stories and Penthouse letters. That is what we used as a reference for our conversations, using crude slang for the parts of the body. We did this because we both believed it was expected. If we didn't talk about girls or a girl and a guy together than we thought we would be labeled gay or queer or a fag. We were both afraid to tell each other how we really felt, I think.

Blaine had a face that would turn heads, male or female, gay or straight, anywhere in between. His skin was always tanned to a perfect shade. This was his natural skin tone, and not from the sun (I found that out later when I saw he had no tan lines). He had started working out when he joined the football team about a year before we became friends, so he had a perfect body or so it seemed to me. He had a sexy six pack, well defined pecs and arms. He had a great set of legs and a butt to die for. And that smile! And that curly black hair, now I know why I wanted to be around him.

My name is Kurt Hummel At that time, I was short, skinny, and running behind in the muscle department. At just over five feet and eighty pounds, I think I was the smallest person in the entire seventh grade, and was the smallest boy up to my junior year in high school, when I hit my growth spurt, such as it was. Anyway, other than my height, I was average looking. I have brown hair that goes straight no matter what angle it comes out of my head (I keep it nearly buzzed for this reason), a lot of freckles, and pits in my face when I smile. A joke we have is for him to ask what that flash of light through my cheeks was when I smile. When he says that it makes me smile even more, so I never hear the end of it.

In January of our seventh grade year, Blaine got a girlfriend. Her name was Melody. I was crushed. He started to spend more of his time with her and less with me. This was to be expected, but I didn't know what to do with myself when I was left to my own devices. I grew restless and bored. I let myself get absorbed in books and singing so I didn't have to think about Blaine or how miserable I was with out him. When baseball season rolled around, I tried out for the team and made it. I dedicated myself to becoming the best player I could, but that was just another way to keep my mind off of him. It came to the point where we stopped hanging out all together. I saw him in the hallways and he would flash that cute grin and say, "Hi,Kurti." I hated it. And I really hated Melody. I didn't even look at her. I would go out of my way to avoid them in the halls. The pain was just too great. Eventually, I stopped trying to talk to Blaine at all and he didn't seem to notice.

As I said earlier, I was an intelligent person, and a shrimp. I went through more than my share of abuse heaped on by classmates, especially the popular guys that had to prove they are tough, that they are a man. I was teased, pushed, beat up, denigrated, derided, however you want to put it. This started all the way back in kindergarten and continued up until my sophomore year when I threatened to castrate my worst antagonist at Blaine's urging, but I digress. What I ended up getting out of all this zero self worth. I don't think you can have a lower self image. That is why, to this day, I have a hard time believing that Blaine chose me to share his life with; I just wasn't deserving enough to have someone that special love me.

My dad knew that I was having some trouble at school, going as far as getting me a counselor, who was worthless by the way. Other than that, the 'rents just let me be. Still do, as a matter of fact. Don't even talk to me most of the time. Yup, they pretty much emotionally abandoned me. But that is another story. Maybe I'll tell you sometime


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter too

By the end of the seventh grade, Melody and Blaine had split up. I heard it through the grape vine. Neither of them seemed to want to talk about it, not that I asked Melody. I came up behind Blaine one day about a week before the end of school. He had his hands above his locker and his head inside like he was looking for a book or something.

"Hey Blaine." He didn't respond to me, so I thought he hadn't heard me. I stepped closer and repeated my call. He half turned his head and then turned back, wiping his arm across his eyes. He turned around and gave me a half-hearted grin and said "Hey." I saw tears welling up in his eyes. He looked like he had been crying for a while by the look of his swollen eyes and the stains on his shirtsleeve.

Immediately, all I felt for him before his girlfriend returned to me. I was worried. I had never seen him cry before, except when he broke his collarbone in the sixth grade playing tackle football in the vacant lot.

"What's wrong man?" He sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes again. He definitely was unhappy. He is usually cheerful, almost to the point of being painful to be around. There was no sign of that person in Blaine at this moment.

"Nothing, I'm OK." The tears in his eyes and the quiver in his bottom lip said differently, though. I looked at him with real concern on my face, and took a step closer.

"You sure? You want to talk?" He nodded his head with a resigned expression on his face.

"After school, OK?" That was more than two hours from now. I shook my head, indicating I wanted to talk to m now. "We'll be late for class," he said as he wiped his eyes again. This was killing me. I hated seeing him in pain.

"Hey Anderson, why are you crying? You miss your mommy?" Great just what he needed. David karofsky was the resident tough guy and was usually in the company of a pack of wannabes. We were lucky this time; he was alone.

"Fuck off, Karofsky." He looked at me as he walked toward me. He raised his hand and casually shoved me into the lockers. He was twice my weight and about a foot taller than I was, so it didn't take much effort for him to move me.

"What did you say? I don't think I heard you correctly." His eyes were full of menace and his fist had a real good grip on my shirt. I just gave him a blank stare, the kind I give my parents when they say something that makes me so angry I want to scream, but don't because anger was never allowed in our house. "I thought so. If you ever say anything like that to me again," he said, punctuating every word by slamming me against the locker, " I will take you apart and smear you across the parking lot." With one last shove I hit the lockers. He had picked me up by my shirt and literally threw me against them, causing a combination dial to hit me in the back making me wince. I was going to have a few bruises.

Blaine spoke up. "Leave him alone. And fuck off, Karosfky." David just looked at him and sneered. Blaine wasn't afraid of David and David knew it.

"Crybaby." With that David walked away, calling to his pack down the hall. Blaine gathered some books from his locker and shut the door.

Blaine and I followed a few seconds behind David down the hall toward the science wing. As we passed the pack, the snickered as they watched us pass. Blaine glared at them as we turned the corner. "Lets skip. I don't think I am going to be able to make it through class." I could once more see tears in his eyes and a depressed look on his face. I didn't hesitate. He was in trouble and needed a friend to talk to. I nodded my head and we walked out of the building toward the high school football field.

As we walked further, I took advantage of our privacy. "Dude, you OK? What's wrong?" He just shook his head. Tears were running down his face now, and he was snuffling more. I thought I saw him shake with a sob. This was more serious than I thought.

We walked in silence other than his snuffling until we got the bleacher seats, but instead of going up and sitting on them, he went behind them. He looked around and saw nobody else there. He walked up to the brick wall behind the bleachers and leaned against it, resting his forehead on his arm. He started shaking and I could hear him crying softly.

I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I could feel him shaking like a leaf. He turned toward me, putting his back to the wall. He slid down to the ground. He rested his arms on his knees and buried his head. His crying was louder now, I could hear him clearly. I knelt beside him.

"What's wrong Blaine? Talk to me." I put a hand on his knee. He jumped as if shocked. I took my hand away. His shoulders were still shaking with uncontrolled spasms. I turned around and sat next to him, determined to wait him out and get to the bottom of this.

He cried like that for another five minutes or so, gradually relaxing his shoulders as the shaking stopped. As he wiped his face with his arm he spoke in a voice so soft that I had to strain to hear him.

"I know you hate me, so there's no reason."

"I don't hate you!" I interrupted, "Why do you think I hate you?"

"Because you have been ignoring me!" The ferocity of his reply surprised me. "Every time I see you in the hall or in the lunchroom or on the playground you turn away! You changed seats in class to be as far away from me as you could! You don't call me anymore! What the fuck am I supposed to think?"

I was stunned. Everything he said was true. I did do that to him. It shouldn't have mattered that he had a girlfriend, he still needed his friend. He needed me and I abandoned him. I could feel the beginning of tears in my own eyes and my throat was tight. Great. Another example of how worthless I am as a friend.

"I didn't mean to do that. I was jealous of Melody. I thought you didn't want me as a friend anymore." Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I pawed at them feebly. "Oh, God I'm sorry Blaine! Please forgive me! I need your friendship too!" I was rapidly going down hill. Any moment and I 'd be bawling outright too. How odd that I could cry in front of him, but not my parents. "Please don't hate me Blaine," I pleaded with him. I looked into his eyes, his liquid blue eyes and saw my reflection in them, and buried my head in my arms. I despised what I saw.

I saw a person who was worried about no one but himself. I saw someone that was so self absorbed, he would inflict pain on those he loved the most. But with those same eyes, Blaine saw someone completely different.

"How could I hate you? I love you." My head jerked up. I looked at him incredulously. Did I hear what I thought I heard?

"What did you just say?" Hope burned in my heart. He smiled a weak smile. God he was beautiful, swollen eyes, tear stained cheeks and all.

A heavy sigh followed as that smile disappeared. "That is what I came out to tell you. Are you sure you don't hate me? Positive?" I nodded both times, not trusting my voice at the moment.

"I hope that what I need to tell you doesn't change that." Again he sighed heavily, and I could see tears again in his eyes. He spoke without any hint of that, though.

"Kurt, I had a long talk with my mom last night. We talked about Melody mostly, then me. Melody was fun for a while, but after a while she wanted to do things. Like we used to talk about, remember?" I nodded. "I thought I wanted to do those things too," he continued softly. "I went over to her house last weekend. Her parents were away. I think they went to Walnut Creek or something. Anyway, we had the house to ourselves and she started to make all the moves. She rubbed me and. all sorts of stuff." He paused to wipe his eyes and looked at me. He saw I was waiting for him to go on and sighed again.

"I didn't get excited, Kurt! Nothing! I mean, she even took off her clothes and everything! I got embarrassed and left. I walked home." That was quite a haul, I knew. At least five miles. "When I got home Mom asked me what happened, why her mom didn't bring me home." Tears started streaming again, but he ignored them. "I couldn't lie to her, so I told her what happened. At first she was mad and then she looked scared. I told her I didn't want to be gay and she ran out of the room crying! Kurt, I don't want to be gay!" He leaned into me and started crying again. All I could do was put my arms around him and hold him tight. My best friend was gay. He liked boys, not girls. That meant I was gay to.

That was the first time I ever put a label on myself and it scared me. Badly. I heard all the talk and saw the attitudes. Now they took on a horrible new significance. I started crying because of the fear. He put his arms around me and we sat there crying together, comforting each other, just being there. Blaine stopped sobbing a few minutes later and, letting me go, gave me that crooked grin.

"What are you crying about?" I looked at him for a second and then looked away, wiping my eyes.

"Blaine, you said you loved me. How do you love me? Like a friend or like a, um, like more than a friend."

He looked me in my eyes, piercing my soul. His gaze never wavered as he said Kurt I love you. I wanted you to be more than a friend. I have for a long time. But then I realized what that meant. That was one reason I went out with Melody. I didn't want to be gay." He broke eye contact, looking at his shoes. Another big sigh and a sniffle. "But I am gay and I can't change that. I know that you may hate me and never want to be around me again, but I have to tell you or I won't be able to live with myself. I want you to be my boyfriend. I want you to be with me." He kicked at the gravel we were sitting in, making rocks fly.

I couldn't believe my ears. He loved me. He loved ME! I never will understand why he chose me. As I sat there in silence, I studied his form. His hair was wild right now from his crying, and his eyes were puffy. His beautiful face, flushed and tear streaked, was lined with worry. I stared at him for what seemed to be a long time. He started to shift uncomfortably under my gaze. I thought he was going to get up and go, but I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looked up at me, fear of rejection in his eyes.

"Blaine, I don't want to be gay either." Several emotions passed his face at once. Fear, disbelief, relief, joy, love, all within milliseconds of one another. I turned toward him and leaned in closer. "I have loved you since I met you, but I was too stupid to know it. And if I have to be gay to be with you," I said with conviction, "so be it." I moved closer to him and put my lips on his. His initial reaction was to back away, but when he realized what was actually happening, He leaned into me and we kissed for the first time. It was a gentle kiss, full of love and confirming what we both felt for each other. It lasted for eternity and ended all to soon.

We backed off far enough that we could look each other in the eyes. I reached for his hands and took them, planning on never letting them go. We looked into the depths of each others soul, communicating our love directly, not through mere words. Neither of us said anything. We just looked at each other, trying to imprint each others face into our mind. I don't think he had ever looked more beautiful than he did on that day. We stayed there until we heard the bell signaling the end of the school.

He broke the silence that followed, "I have to catch the bus. Dad's birthday is tonight, and I can't miss it." He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I reached out and gathered him to me, pulling his body against mine. I felt his tongue gently brush my lips, like a feather against my skin. And then he jumped up and ran away.

"I'll call you!" He looked back over his shoulder and grinned, waving his hand. "Damn he's hot," I thought as I watched his perfect ass run away


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

As I watched Blaine leave that afternoon, I was filled with conflicting emotions. I was thrilled that I could now let him know how I felt about him, and even more thrilled he felt the same about me. But even with that exhilaration, there were some nagging, worrisome doubts deep inside. I was gay.

I am not sure why the label is so significant for me. At the time, all I had heard led me to believe being gay was bad. How it was bad I wasn't sure. I knew that being gay was a serious problem since all the guys seemed to want to pound the shit out of any gays they found. Maybe that IS why it was so important. I was scared of getting pasted.

I had never acknowledged to myself that I was gay. I liked boys. That is all I knew. I didn't comprehend that that made me gay. I was me. I was no different now than I was yesterday or last week or last year. But today, I was gay. That meant tomorrow, I was a target. Not that being a target was anything new to me. I had been a target every day of my life since kindergarten. A very small, very quickly moving target. But now I felt I had a bulls eye tattooed on my forehead.

As I was walking home (I only lived a mile from school, while Blaines house was more like ten miles), the though came to me, "Oh God! Blaine was going to be a target too!" I wasn't sure if he had ever been in that kind of an environment. I was so caught up in thinking about how I could protect him from Karoskfy and his pack, that I walked right past my street! So much for the homing instinct.

I turned back toward my house and almost ran over a kid that lived in my neighborhood. Patrick, or Pat as he preferred, was a tow headed boy with big brown eyes just into his growth spurt. He was all arms and legs with little coordination. Being in my PE class, I had plenty of opportunity to watch him at his attempts to do the long jump or the discus. When he ran he locked his elbows in place and swung his arms, giving him a lopsided comic aspect.

"You lost?" A smirk was on his face like he knew what I was thinking.

"Nah, I was coming up to see if you could play whiffle ball, but I remembered how ugly you were and changed my mind." I grinned as I said it to let him know I was kidding. He could be sensitive some times. Well, so am I, but I hide it well.

"I can come down to your place after I finish my chores if you want. I have a new pitch to try on you anyway. You want me to see if Chris can come down too?" I nodded and told him I'd see him in an hour or so.

I met Pat at age four. He and I went to separate schools until the sixth grade, but had grown up together. His parents had a really strong faith in God and no faith in public school. But since the christian school they had sent him to only went up to sixth grade, he joined us at the middle school in seventh. On the whole I liked him. I wasn't attracted to him, though, even if he was a blond.

Chris, on the other hand, was a different matter completely. He was one of those guys that takes on puberty with a vengeance. At age 13, he was already 5'11" and 185 pounds. He wasn't fat either, but had worked on his body since he was nine. He was a jock, but without the tough exterior that made Karoskfy so repulsive.

His brother David was in the Navy now as a SEAL. That had been his only goal growing up, so he did everything he could to get in to the program including running, swimming, lifting, you name it. Chris convinced David to teach him how to lift and they ended up working out together until David left home two years ago. When he left, Chris kept lifting. And since Pat and Chris were the only guys close enough to hang out with, we spent a lot of time together.

I finally made it home, berating myself for taking the wrong turn and running into Pat. I didn't really want to be around him right now, as I had too much to think about. I made up my mind to call him as soon as I walked in the door and tell him I couldn't play ball since I had some stuff to do.

As I walked up to the front door of the house, I put on my poker face. I call it my poker face because just like a poker player in a casino holding a pat hand, I showed no emotion in my home. It just wasn't allowed.

My father was a Vietnam veteran. He went over there at 18 and came back a different man than the one who left. It sounds trite, but it's true. He learned to turn off his emotions over there. The only thing I saw from him was indifference or rage, with nothing in between. Because he couldn't express his emotions, he didn't allow me to, either, or maybe he taught me how to hide them. I am sure that the stuff I went through in school didn't help either (If you don't cry, they don't know they got to you). Anyhow, he drove the lesson home one day in a major way. I don't even remember what it was about. Something had happened and it pissed me off royally.

Dad was at that time, a thirty-six year old man, graying at the edges with a slight beer belly. He was a middle manager at the local plywood factory, getting the worst of both the blue collar world and the white collar world. He wasn't overly strong, but given my size, his strength and rage were a fearsome combination.

Anyway, I was really going off. My dad stepped in front of me, placed one hand on my shoulder and lightly slapped me with the other. Well, being the stubborn child I was, this only incensed me further, and my face showed it. He slapped me harder, then put his finger on my nose and said. "Stop it!" I closed my mouth which had fallen open after the second slap and let an angry scowl come to my face. He slapped me a third time, hard, saying, "Get that expression off your face or I'll slap it off!" Talk about motivation to work on a poker face.

That is what did it for me. Only I took it a step further. My dad didn't want me to show anger. I took the lesson to mean that emotions couldn't be shown at all. And that is the way I am still today. Only Pete could get me to open up.

For my moms part, she really wasn't interested in me. Her interests lay in the direction of assessing how miserable her life was. I had always thought that my parents marriage was, if not happy, at least comfortable. Now that I look back, I realize that my mom, in her own way, was sacrificing her life so us kids wouldn't have to go through a divorce.

She was a pretty thirty-two year old woman, working at a credit union as a gopher for nearly minimum wage. Not a fulfilling career to say the least. She came home to a house that was always a wreck, a husband incapable of love and her two wonderful children, both of which were a burden, or so it seemed.

I was the first born, and with everything that had happened to me, seemed distant and suspicious to her. I guess she called me her "perfect little boy" because I was never under foot or causing problems. My sister on the other hand, was a High Holy Terror.

Hannah made it her business to do all the mischief I never did, and then do her own mischief on top of that. Two years younger than me, she already had boyfriends coming out her ears and willing coconspirators in the girls in our neighborhood. She disobeyed constantly, and my parents more or less let her get away with most of it. My mother spent a lot of her time apologizing to those girls' mothers for what Hannah had done.

Hannah had always been popular in school, had always brought home the best grades, and always rubbed it in my face. Just like most older brothers, I had been admonished several times that I was bigger and stronger than her, and not to give her the pounding she richly deserved in my estimation. But now, we were more of a size.

Let's see. Where was I. Ah, yes...

As I opened the door, my mother flashed me that fake smile she used to convince me she was happy and everything was all right. Then the smile slipped and she said "Hi honey, how was your day?" Having completed her compulsory greeting, she then turned from me and resumed doing whatever she had been doing, already putting me out of her mind.

As usual, I headed toward my room without a word. I made sure to close the door behind me. Blaine wouldn't be home for a half an hour, so I went ahead and called Pat. His mom answered the phone and told me that he had already left for Chris's place. I thanked her and quickly dialed up Chris. He answered the phone, and I told him that I had some things I had to do and I wouldn't be able to come out for a while. He complained half heartedly and then told me he'd see me later. I went back to the problems at hand.

I settled myself on the bed holding a book in my hands, not really reading it, but rather thinking about how I would deal with the pack. For some reason, it was in my mind that they knew about Blaine and I, and that they would be gunning for us. And try as I might, I could think of no way that Blaine and I could protect ourselves from the whole pack. Individually or in pairs, we would be able to hold our own. But if they ganged up on us... I didn't want to dwell on that thought.

The phone rang and nearly scared me out of my skin. I glanced at the clock as I picked it up. I had been sitting there for over 45 minutes! Just as I put the phone up to my ear I heard Hannah scream my name into the phone. I quickly jerked it away from my ear, covered the mouthpiece and yelled "Got It!". Once more placing the phone to my ear, I waited to hear the phone slam down as Hannah hung her end up. But I didn't hear it.

I spoke softly into the phone. "Hannah, hang up please." She didn't, thinking that I didn't know she was actually there. "Hannah, don't make me come out there. You remember what happened last time," and I added an evil little laugh for good measure.

"Asshole." She finally hung up.

"Hi K. Whuzzup?" It was Blaine after all. I don't know who else it would have been, though.

As he spoke, I felt a thrill in my heart. How could I have not felt that in the thousands of times he had called me before? I tried to reply past the sudden lump in my throat. Instead of speaking to him, I croaked at him. Oh God, how embarrassing.

"You OK? You sound like you're sick."

"I'm fine man. Just had to catch my breath. How are you doing? You OK?"

"No, I'm not OK, I'm not with you, so how could I be OK?" If there was any doubt in my mind at that point that I wanted to be with him , he destroyed it then and there.

"Dude, you don't know how you just made me feel. I wish I could be with you too." I heard the receiver in the other room come off the hook.

Hannah's piercing voice came across the line, "Hurry up! I have to call Emma. Get off the phone!" I knew at this point that any conversation we were going to have would have to take place face to face, especially with my sister around.

"Give me a few more minutes and we'll hang up, 'k Han?"

"Just hurry up," she said just before slamming the phone down again.

"Blaine, we can't talk on this line. Too many ears, ya know? I'll see you tomorrow at school. Ask your mom if I can spend the night on Friday or Saturday, will you?"

"I wanted to talk to you now, but I do know your sister. I'll ask my mom. And Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

I almost didn't hear what he said he was so quiet, but I did hear it. "I love you." Hannah chose this moment to see if we were still on the phone.

"Me too, bud. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you then. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up the phone. Hannah said with an impatient tone "You done talking to your boyfriend now?" My blood ran cold. It took me a moment to respond. She couldn't know, could she?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

"Uh, Yeah. Next time wait until I tell you we're done, OK? I don't listen in on your calls."

"Whatever. Hang up." And I did.

I sighed. I guess I was going to make it out to play ball anyway. That was OK, I would see Blaine tomorrow, and make up for lost time.

The phone rang again. I thought it might be Blaine, but Hannah didn't screech my name, so it must've been for her. I wondered what she could possibly talk about for hours on end with a person she just left at school.

I gathered up my glove, bat, ball and grabbed a baseball cap as I left my room. As I was heading for the door, my mom motioned me to wait as she was on the phone.

"Uh huh, I understand. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Thank you for calling." She hung up the phone and turned to face me, giving me "The Look". Seeing this, I franticly tried to remember what I could have possibly done to deserve The Look.

"And just where do you think you are going, Kurt Hummel?" Oh shit. She was really pissed. She had her hands on her hips and was impatiently awaiting my response. I decided to try the truth than second guess why I was in the dog house.

"Out to the lot to play ball. Pat and Chris are waiting for me."

"Well, think again. You have wasted enough time with your friends for one day, and what's worse, it was time you should have been in class! You know how important school is to your future! And yet you decide to skip whenever it suits you!" That was unfair. I had never cut class before today. "I don't think you need to worry about going anywhere for a week, young man!"

"I had a good reason. Don't you think I know better than to skip unless I have a good reason?" As I objected, my mom's face started getting flushed. She didn't like it when I argued with her.

"Don't you get smart with me! I think you had better tack on another week. Maybe you'll learn not to argue!" Oh man, now I'd done it. I wouldn't be able to spend the night with Blaine this weekend, or be with him after school got out the following week.

With these thoughts running through my heart and what little brain was functioning, I did something remarkably stupid. I started yelling at my mother.

"You never listen to me! I said I had a good reason, but do you ask? NO. You just go on and decide I need to be grounded anyway. You don't care that I was with Blaine this afternoon because he was crying and shook up and needed someone to talk to. You taught me to help people in need. I did, but you are punishing me for it!"

You know, I used to think that fire engine red was the brightest red around. I was wrong. My mom's face outshone any red I had ever seen. I think she was in shock. Her perfect child had just yelled at her. What an idiot I was. Now I was going to get grounded for the summer. Or maybe the rest of my life.

Over my mom's shoulder I saw Hannah standing there with a huge smile on her face. She loved to see me in trouble. It didn't happen very often. She was trying to stifle a laugh behind her hand and failed. My mom heard it but ignored her.

When mom next spoke, she had that icy calm rage that scares me. I only saw it rarely and it usually meant dire consequences to whomever was in her path.

"You go to your room. No TV. No phone. No computer. Your father will be home in an hour. We will discuss what is to be done with you and let you know our decision. Now go." Leadenly, I turned around and marched to my room, being careful not to slam my door.

God help me, I was so stupid! I deliberately antagonized her into this. I purposely set myself up for this, effectively eliminating any chance of my seeing Blaine any time in the foreseeable future. What a fucking idiot. I wasn't worth having as a friend if I couldn't keep out of trouble long enough to BE a friend. Stupid sorry bastard.

I spent the next forty-five minutes telling myself stuff like that. I did that a lot. People tell me I am too hard on myself - that I have unrealistic expectations of myself. That may be, but I was taught from an early age that I had to be, if not perfect, damn close- and I rarely was even in the ball park. Looking back now, I literally convinced myself that I was stupid, lazy, and a generally bad person. Only after these many years have I come to realize that I am not stupid - far from it. I am no more lazy than the next person. And as for being a bad person, I am not a murderer or a rapist, so I can't be that bad.

Now don't get the idea that I woke up one morning without those self destructive thoughts. I had years of therapy and many more years of life experience to get my head on straight. It took a LOT of work on my part to root out the cause of those thoughts. It is always an on going battle to remember that I am smart, good looking, and worthy of what I have. And no matter what you happen to think about yourself, everyone is worth of a happy, fulfilling life. EVERYONE! Yes, even you.

Again, I digress.

I heard the door shut in the living room. My dad had just walked in the front door. I heard Hannah yelling "Daddy, Daddy, guess what Kurt did!" Oh wonderful. Just what I needed - Dad getting a skewed version of what happened from Dawn.

I heard Mom tell Hannah to mind her own business or she could go to her room, too. I grinned in spite of myself. Served the little bitch right. Then I heard my mom and dad talking to each other, but I couldn't make out the words. Funny thing was, my dad didn't sound like he was upset like he normally gets when we get in trouble with Mom.

Ten minutes after he got home, my father came to my room, judge, jury, and executioner. As he opened the door, I was confused. His face wore a neutral expression instead of the open rage I expected. He closed the door behind him, pulled out my desk chair, and sat. This wasn't what I expected and I began to get wary. Strange things set me on edge, and this was on of the most unusual occurrences I had ever witnessed.

His blue eyes met mine and I had to look away. Whether it was natural subordinance or something else I wasn't sure. Maybe it was fear. I never could look my dad in the eyes. It's not an easy thing even now.

"Kurt, why did you skip out of class?" This was the last thing I expected from him. Normally he comes in like the angel of doom, and announces my fate. Why this sudden questioning? What did he want? What would appease him? I decided on truth. I usually did.

"I skipped out with Blaine today. I found him at his locker crying. He had been for a while, I could tell. He needed someone to talk to and I was the only one there. I wasn't sure what he would do otherwise." I slumped down now, having told my side of it. No unnecessary details or pleading. It wouldn't have helped, anyway.

"What did you talk about?" Now this was a tricky question. I couldn't tell my dad that Blaine was gay. I wasn't sure how he would react, and I wanted to be with him. I couldn't risk not being able to see him.

"He asked me not to tell anyone."

"Kurt, we have to know. We need to make sure that he is safe and wouldn't do anything to hurt himself. I need you to tell me what he said." Still I refused.

"I'm sorry dad, he asked me not to tell, so I won't. I will say that everything is fine at home as far as I know and he's not going to kill himself. He's not on drugs or dope or anything like that." I thought I might as well hit all the high points here for good measure. "No one is beating him or anything. If I thought he was in danger I would come to you, but he's not. Please believe me. He's fine. He just needed to talk." I stopped before I overplayed my hand. My dad was acting weird and I wasn't sure where to go anyway.

He stared at me for a while. I met his gaze for about five seconds before I dropped my eyes again. He sighed and got up out of the chair. He told me to wait here for him; he would be back. I wondered what was going to happen to me. I had never seen my dad this calm when I was in trouble. It was more frightening than his rages.

I sat there on my bed until he came back, imagining what kind of sentence he would hand down. When he came in, my mom was behind him. She had a pensive look on her face, like she was worried or nervous about something. She couldn't know I was gay, could she? Was that what my dad was trying to get me to admit? That Blaine and I were gay? I couldn't believe that we had only been boyfriends less than a day and we were already found out.

"Kurt, your mother has something to tell you." He looked at my mom, who sighed (a lot of sighing in my family - everyone is so unhappy).

"Kurt," she began, "I need to apologize to you. You were right and I let my anger get the better of me. You saw a friend in need and you acted on that. I'm sorry that I yelled at you." She grinned at me. "Maybe I do need to listen to you more."

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. I was blown away totally. I couldn't remember an adult ever apologizing to me for anything, much less punishing me. Well, preparing to punish me anyway.

After I picked up my jaw and stuffed my tongue back in, I said something lame like "That's okay, Mom," or "No problem." And that was the end of that. No grounding, no whipping, nothing.

Maybe I would get to stay over at Blaines this weekend after all. All I needed to do was keep my mouth shut.

The rest of the night was uneventful. All of us went back to our usual roles. No one said much, and the TV was the center point of the evening. I went to my room around eight o'clock and started reading my book again. It was a fantasy story by a well known author. I had read that book probably close to twenty times. And no matter how often I read it, I always find some new detail I had missed before. I do that with all of my books that I like. Most people I tell this to think I am crazy. Maybe I am, at that.

As I was reading the book, Blaine kept popping into my mind, distracting me from the story. I reread the same page around five times without even knowing it. Blaine was so cute I couldn't get him out of my head, not that he was unpleasant to think about. I finally gave up on the book and started focusing my mind on him. He was so hot!

I pictured him in my mind's eye. He was 5'6", about 125 pounds and solid muscle with out looking overly muscular. I loved watching him without his shirt on. His muscles would move under his skin and turn me on to no end. His chest was smooth with defined pecs, a washboard stomach that I longed to run my fingers and tongue over. His legs were a runners legs, a result of his training for track (he ran long distance races like the 800 and 1500 meters). To put it succinctly, there wasn't one thing about him that didn't turn me on. His black curly hair was jut the icing on the cake. His beautiful face, laughing smile and gorgeous golden hazel eyes were a bonus.

As I thought of him, I started to get excited. That happened a lot lately, and I didn't have to be thinking about sex either. It could be embarrassing. But right now, I felt really good and started to rub myself through my boxer briefs. Of course this only made my situation worse. I finally pulled my underwear down and did the job properly, imagining it was Blaine with his hand on my erection, slowly gliding up and down, taking me to the heights of orgasm and gently bringing me down again. I couldn't cum yet, but I knew what and orgasm was and how to have one.

As I was recovering, I thought of what it would be like to have Blaine as a boyfriend and sleep with him, and I got hard again. We would explore each others bodies with eyes, hands, and tongues, learning every curve and crevice, every small nuance that made us who we were. We would take our time and go slow, making sure we covered inch and knew each others bodies like our own. We would kiss each other gently and explore each others lips with our tongues, tasting each other, testing our responses, learning what we wanted from each other. He would press his tongue against mine and I against his. They would dance together, searching out one another and dancing together.

My hands would be feeling his skin, running from his bare shoulder down to his chest, teasing his nipples lightly as I moved further down to his awesome abs. I would feel them against my hand, rubbing them and feeling them tighten as I tickled him. My hands would continue downward and around to his firm butt, kneading and massaging him, feeling him clinch as he reacts to me. My hand would then move around and lightly brush his pubic hair, marveling at the softness.

I pictured his perfect body standing in front of me in my mind, my hand reaching for his erection, slowly stroking him toward release when-

WHAM! I was hit with wave after wave of the most intense pleasure I had ever felt. This was far better than any orgasm I had had prior to this. And there was a little liquid leaking out of my quickly deflating penis. My first cum. Wow! If Blaine could do that when he wasn't even here, I couldn't wait to see what would happen when we were together.

I just lay there, enjoying the moment and letting my mind drift. Or I tried to let it drift. Blaine seemed to anchor my thoughts. I didn't mind. He was beautiful to look and think about. I fell asleep that night with his image in my mind, smiling at me. I am sure he was in my dreams too.

**Follow me! feed back :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

I hate mornings. I hate having to get out of bed. I hate the cold floor. I hate having to take a shower first thing. I just hate mornings. They suck. And today was only Thursday.

My alarm went off at six thirty and as usual I hit the snooze button. I allowed myself the luxury of being in a nice warm bed and being awake enough to enjoy it. But I could only hit snooze once and still be ready to go to school in time. When the alarm went off again, I jumped out of bed, fished out some underwear from the clean clothes pile and dropped the ones I had on into the dirty clothes pile. Every teen has a clean and dirty pile, don't they? The dresser was just for looks, right?

My room was messy, just like any other thirteen year old boy's. I swore up and down that if my mom made me clean my room, I'd never be able to find anything again. She finally told me to just keep my door closed so no one could see my disaster area. I had everything arranged on the floor so it was reasonably easy to get to, with a path down the middle so I could get to my bed. Perfect.

Finding my robe my parents had gotten me for my last birthday in the "Worn but clean enough" pile, I wrapped it around me and tied the belt. I kind of like it, because it allows me to hide my morning erection, so I didn't have to endure any of my brat sisters comments.

I finished up in the bathroom with plenty of time to spare as always, and as always, I found Hannah drumming her fingers on her arm impatiently waiting for me to get out of there.

"S 'bout time," she muttered as she swept past me. I ignored her and went to my room to get dressed.

Today was going to be a great day for me. It was the first day after Blaine had told me he loved me (did he really say that?). He was going to be at school and I couldn't wait to see him. I wanted to look good for him. I chose some faded blue skinny jeans and a a blaine button turn up.

It was one of my favorite ways to dress - jeans and a shirt. I had dressed the same way from when I first started choosing my own clothes until I got into college. Now I am more comfortable, believe it or not, in a shirt and tie. But again, I digress (I do that a lot, don't I?).

Anyhow, after I was dressed. I went out to the kitchen to get my breakfast. Mom had cooked the usual scrambled eggs and Sizzlean with buttered toast. I wolfed it down like the bottomless pit I was. I even paused long enough to inhale a large glass of OJ and wipe my mouth with a paper napkin (NO, I didn't eat it!).

Just as I had finished, Hannah came out of the bathroom looking not much better than when she had went in. I told her as much and earned a rather derogatory nickname for my efforts. Ah, the joys of younger siblings.

I went back into the bathroom and finished up my grooming, brushing my teeth and combing my hair, making what little there was on top stand up. Yet another thing I hated about myself. My hair was so straight that you could use it as a straight edge in geometry or something. And it stuck out at all angles. Combine that with the cowlicks my dad gave me, I just looked terrible with longer hair. I kept the sides buzzed and the top short.

I examined my face. I had a high forehead, small pointy nose and green eyes that changed with my mood and what I was wearing. I had seen them pale to almost gray and deepen to nearly brown. Blaine said my eyes were expressive. I thought it was weird. My mouth was normal, although I thought my lips were too fat. I also thought my eyes were too wide, my nose too pointed, etc. etc.

I found out later that I wasn't the only kid that worried about how they looked. Just about everybody I've talked to that I grew up with had the same fears and concerns. The only thing that mad me different from them, really, was that I was gay.

I quickly completed my morning rituals, grabbed my jacket and headed for the door. Just before I opened it, my mom called.

"Kurt, here is your lunch money. You forgot again, didn't you?" With a knowing smile, she handed me two dollars, enough to get a school lunch -if you call that food- milk, and nothing else. "Kurt, I don't like you skipping lunch. I know you do so don't deny it. It's not good for a growing boy to starve himself. So make sure to you eat, okay? I worry about you."

What the hell was going on here? Who are you and what have you done with that cold uncaring woman that I know as my mom? I was confused. She wasn't acting normal. Something didn't seem right. She NEVER expressed concern about me like this. "Are you okay, mom? You don't seem yourself this morning."

"I'm fine. Same as I was yesterday. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Must be me." I beat a hasty retreat rather than go into why I asked. My mom seemed to sense my mood and didn't make an issue of it. I couldn't figure it out. Something had changed in her, and for the better as far as I was concerned. What could have happened to bring about this change? I was sure I could figure it out in time. So, I would just wait and see. If this was just a reaction because she felt sorry about how she acted last night, things would go back to normal soon enough. But if she had changed... Well, probably not.

I flew to school. I couldn't wait to see Blaine. His bus usually go in ten minutes or so before class started. I went out to where the bus drops off and waited for him. As his bus pulled in, I stood there, suddenly nervous. Did he really say what I thought I had heard? Did he really love me, or just like me as a friend? All of these doubts started to cloud my head, ruining my happy mood. It only took seconds. By the time Blaine got off the bus I was my usual, dour self. But only until he smiled at me.

"Hi Kurtie! Howzit going?" I melted on the spot. My knees started shaking and I am sure that if I had tried to speak it would have been a squeak instead of words. Oh man, he was the most perfect thing I had ever seen. I couldn't help staring at him. For a long time. A very long time. Then I noticed he was giving me a funny look and it brought me back to my senses.

"Doing great," I said in a loud voice, trying to cover for the people I knew were watching our actions. I lowered my voice to a near whisper so only he could hear me. "Now that you are here." I offered him my hand. It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't let the world know we were gay. He looked surprised, but took my hand anyway and shook. I tried to communicate everything to him in that one, simple gesture. I squeezed his hand to the point of pain, I am sure. I looked him in the eyes, silently telling him how much I loved him. What he felt that morning I don't know. I never asked him. But since he stayed with me, I guess the feeling was mutual.

The first warning bell went off. Class would start in ten minutes. We ambled into the hallway and toward his locker, which was closer than mine. It happened to be by Davids locker, also. He wasn't there, fortunately. As Blaine tried to open his locker, he kept giving me side long glances. He was making me nervous.

He finally got his locker open after three tries, and I said something I had heard Chris's older brother say after he got back from boot camp.

"Five percent rule."

Blaine looked confused. "Huh?"

"Yeah. You have to be five percent smarter than the equipment you are operating." I grinned at him to soften any insult he may take, but I shouldn't have worried.

"Hey!" He took a swing at me and connected with my shoulder. It wasn't in anger, but in fun. It still hurt though. I rubbed my shoulder and started giving him a hurt look. "You deserved it." Again with the grin.

I grinned back. "Yeah, I did. But did you have to wind up so much? I have to use this arm today."

He got an impish smile and said he would find a way to make it up to me. My heart started racing and I started getting hard. Oh man, I hated it when that happened. Especially in school.

"Gotta get my books," I said, and almost sprinted to my locker. I heard Blaine laughing behind me. I had no doubt he knew why I had run off.

Reaching my locker, I opened it up with no problem and got my books out for English. We probably wouldn't use it as this was the last full week of class. Most teachers kind of slacked off at this point in the year.

As I reached back in to get my algebra book, my locker door slammed into my wrist, leaving it feeling like it had been crushed. I cried out in pain and looked to see David laughing at me. He had seen me and couldn't resist coming over and tormenting me. His cronies were around him, all of them snickering. I tried to ignore them as I blocked open my locker door with my body, grabbed my book and folder, and then closed the door.

As I walked away, I heard David say something to his cohorts that set them off laughing, but I pretended not to hear them. Selective hearing is another ability that serves me in good stead. I sighed. Maybe it was going to be a normal day after all.

When I walked into English, I took my seat quickly. Blaine was already in there and was reading a book. I don't remember what it was. I looked at my wrist and decided it wasn't broken after all, but I could see blood seeping into my skin, kind of like a fresh hickey. I would have bruise. And it did hurt. But as with everything else that had ever happened, I would survive.

David walked into class and I just glared at him, giving him my most hateful look I could muster. He just smirked and turned his back to me, sitting down. He had dismissed me from his thoughts, like throwing out the trash. I trembled with impotent fury.

"You okay, Kurt? You look pissed." Blaine. I glanced at him and felt my anger lessen. He had a look of genuine concern on his face. Furrowed brow, pursed lips and all. He was more than beautiful. How could one stay angry when beholding perfection?

"I'm fine," I said as I shook my head in disbelief, "I just wish David would get his." Pete smiled and nodded in agreement.

The third bell went off. I must have missed the second one somehow. Class began, and Mr. tie gave us a writing assignment. We were to write about how we saw ourselves and our lives at this moment. It was a five hundred word essay, due by end of class on Friday. I groaned audibly. How many ways can you say that you are a nobody with no life going nowhere fast? That was only like ten words. Only 490 to go, I guess. Lets see how many words I can find that mean feeble. I'd define each one and use it in a sentence like a vocabulary lesson.

I knew that wouldn't cut it so I got to work with serious intent to lie my ass off and make up a good story. I finished the assignment before class ended forty minutes later. I was quick. School was not a problem for me. It wasn't challenging, and I had no reason to excel. My parents were happy with my 3.2 GPA, even though I could have done much better had they motivated me.

My essay delineated how my life was fine, that I was excited to get out of school for the summer and I was looking forward to the eighth grade (big lie, that one). I wrote about how I would play baseball all summer and read my books, maybe learn to do something new. It wasn't a great paper, but I was sure I would get at least a B grade. Good enough.

The bell signaled the end of class. With Mr. Tie's reminder when the assignment was due, I headed to math class and Blaine headed off to Social Studies. Math was boring as usual. Mr. Fordyce (for eyes, what ever) was trying to give us a head start on next year, but no one was paying attention. He just went on and on about trigonometry and how useful it is in the real world but no one believed him (He is right, you know - It is useful in the real world for any number of applications from chemistry to physics to architecture).

After forever, the bell rang, freeing us from Mr. Monotone. I had had trouble staying awake in that class for some reason. Looking back, I can see why. Now it was off to Mr. Soiseth and Band.

Band was one of my favorite classes, after biology and computers. I played trumpet. I usually played third part, and was usually the only trumpet not playing first. Everyone else in my section thought it was a status symbol to play first. I just liked playing harmony and making good sound. Chris was also in the class playing trumpet, and he was the true first chair. He had earned it. I respected his ability and talent. Had he chosen, I think he could have gone professional. As it was, he went to West Point and is a Major in the army just twelve years later.

Of course, Blaine was here too, but he sat with the trombones and tuba.

As for the other people in the band, about half of the trumpet section were pack members, which made this class difficult. But the pleasure I took in the music made up for it.

Mr. Soiseth on the other hand was an erratic person with a volatile temper. When you made a mistake, he was patient enough unless you made the same mistake again. It is an easy thing to do. He was also a fanatic about controlling the class. Talking was not allowed, and if you talked you got detention. Simple. Detention was held at lunch with Mr. Morin, the biology teacher. He was cool, but detention was a punishment, so he was strict then.

Soiseth was unpredictable. Last year he had picked up a kid in the grade ahead of us and slammed him into the wall because he wouldn't stop talking. How he kept his job, I have no idea. A lot of parents pulled their kids out of band after that. We lost about half the band.

Today we weren't doing much in there anyway except turning in all our music. He had to inventory before the year was over, so it turned into more of a study hall until he got to you. Blaine and I sat next to each other today, where normally we would be separated. Since we couldn't talk, we had to write notes back and forth. Soiseth had no problems with that as long as we were silent.

-I missed you last night, K.

-Missed you too. Almost got myself grounded, tho.

-How?

-The school called and told her I skipped. I told her I had a good reason but she didn't listen to me. She grounded me for two weeks.

-How'd you get out of it?

-My dad came home and asked me what happened. I told him you needed a friend to talk to. He asked me what we talked about -

Blaine started to get a panicked look on his face as I wrote that, but I motioned it was not a problem.

- and I told him you asked me not to tell. He asked if you were on drugs or if your parents were beating you or something else serious. I told him no and that was it.

-Wow. Close call. I don't know what I will say when my mom asks me. She got a call too, but she hasn't said anything. I'm worried my dad'll find out.

I asked him "Why?" with my face.

-He'll probably beat the hell out of me.

-He do that often?

-Only when I deserve it. Every time I get into REAL trouble.

I paused, thinking about what he'd written. I am not sure what it was that was setting off alarm bells in my head, but they were there none the less.

-What does he do when he beats the hell out of you?

-Just the belt to my butt. It hurts for a while, but it's no big deal.-

Blaine grinned as he wrote.

- I usually do deserve it. It's what I get for breaking the rules. You know how it goes...


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter six.

Yeah, I knew how it went. But why did he get the belt and all I got was a swat? It was unfair and made me uncomfortable. And scared, I realized. Scared that Blaine would get hurt by Joe. His father was a tough guy and really wanted to make sure Blaine could take life "like a man". Blaine had written something while I had been thinking and he had to tap the notebook a couple of times to get my attention.

-Did you ask if you could stay over this weekend?

-NO! I forgot with all of the stuff that went on last night. I'll call mom and ask her at lunch. 'K?

-OK

I started writing out some symbols on the paper. When we first started hanging out together, codes were a big deal around class. We had written up one and figured out how to use it different ways by changing around some of the symbols, kind of telling each other what the code key was. The long and short of it was that only certain symbols represented letters while the others were just there to make the message look longer and more complex. Since we only had one set of symbols to remember, it was easy to use and we could decipher messages with out a written key. It really was quite ingenious for a couple of eleven year olds.

I wrote deliberately and unhurriedly. I wanted to make sure that all the symbols were right.

-I LOVE YOU

His face was so expressive! I could actually see his eyes soften and his face relax into a broad smile.

-I L U 2

"Blaine Andersom, bring your music up." Shit! Trust Soiseth to break up the moment. Blaine smiled apologetically and headed off to the podium. I looked again at what Blaine had written in code.

-I L U 2

That small acknowledgement meant more to me at that moment than anything else in my world. He actually did love me and wanted to be with me. I just stared at the paper until Blaine finished handing in his music. I felt like I was in a dream. I still have that notebook packed away somewhere. I have to find it.

-You OK, Kurt?

-OK. Just thinking.

-About?

Back to the code.

-US, MY M AND D, YOUR M AND D, WHAT WE WILL TELL THEM.

Man, I was getting a cramp in my hand. The code wasn't designed for the ease of drawing, and we had written a lot in this conversation.

-We won't. (No code here, Blaine seemed to feel it wasn't needed)

-WHAT IF WE GET CAUGHT?

-WE'LL BE VERY CAREFUL.

I must have still had a dubious expression on my face, because he tapped the page again for emphasis. Then he scrawled some more.

-DON'T WORRY.

-I'll try.

He underlined what he had written earlier at the top of the page.

I L U 2

He gave me an encouraging slight smile and moved his leg against mine as he slouched into the chair he was in. We sat in a companionable silence until the end of class like that, not writing anymore (I couldn't have anyway since I had just about crippled my hand with that damn code).

The bell rang, we got up and headed for our classes. He had math and I had Social Studies. We split up as we reached my locker. He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder as he went on toward his locker. I dialed in the combination and opened the door, and grabbed my book and folder. As I shut the door, I turned to go to class and ran straight into Randy, one of David K accomplices. My nose was about even with the center of his chest. He was the strongest guy in my grade, even stronger than Chris.

"Watch where you're going, dick wad!" He shoved me away from him into my locker. The door handle hit me in the same place as yesterday.

"Sorry," I mumbled, and walked past him. Randy was easier to deal with then David. He didn't go out of his way to pick on me unless David was around him. If I had the misfortune of coming to Randy's attention, he would usually do as he just did -brush me aside like a minor annoyance and not pursue me as I tried to make my escape.

Social Studies was the usual boring lecture. This was the only class besides Biology and Computers that we still had a real lesson in. The book we used had more material than we could cover in a year. This lesson was on the Emancipation Proclamation. Mr. Sowa would go on and on about what it meant at the time (A last ditch effort by a weak president of a country split by conflict, and the leader of a faction losing the war they were fighting) and what it's strong and weak points were. I had always had a special interest in Lincoln for some reason. Mom said we were related to him through marriage or something. I later served in the Navy on an aircraft carrier named for him, too, but that is another story. Maybe I'll tell you about it later, after I get all of this out of my head and on to virtual paper. There is a lot to tell you about that, let me assure you(Man, can't I keep on track or what?).

Social Studies ended and lunch began. Ignoring my mother's instructions to eat, Blaine and I headed for the bleacher seats to talk and enjoy the late morning sun. Neither one of us ate at the cafeteria. This was what we normally did anyway, and I didn't think anyone would find this strange. We instead kept the money so we could do stuff later on like buy a soda or something sweet. The bleachers were technically off limits at lunch, but as long as the monitors could see us, they let us be. They were empty at the moment, so we were alone.

"Gawd I am glad that is over. I hate math! Does Fordyce have to make it so boring? He's enough to make me want to serve burgers for a living." As usual Blaine brought a smile to my face.

"Yeah, I can just see it now. You working on the grill and me mopping floors. We should be able to afford a cardboard box on those salaries."

"Yeah, but it will be a refrigerator box and it'll be ours."

Here we were, making plans to be together in the future, even if it was in jest. I knew at that moment that I needed him to be with me always. He was filling up a void I had had since I can remember. He was my other half, being able to open me up and read me like an open book. He knew what I was feeling and thinking, my wants, my dreams. He knew me inside and out. Well, not physically, yet, but as far as my personality goes, he had me down cold. I knew without a doubt that if he left me, ever, for any reason, I would cease to exist. I would die.

We chatted about other things, what we were going to do this weekend, what flick we wanted to see, where we would ride the dirt bikes he has, normal everyday teenage boy stuff. We were both scared to mention anything more personal, because of the fear we both had that someone would overhear us.

The rest of the day took forever. We had the same PE class, but different classes otherwise. I had Computers, PE, Biology. Blaine had Biology, PE, Computers. PE was a non-dress down day. We had to turn in our locks and stuff, so we didn't do much other than talk about the usual stuff. Then we split again for the last class of the day. Overall, today was a good day for me. I only ran into David once. He had four classes with me, including PE. But since we weren't doing anything physical, he couldn't hurt me without drawing undue attention to himself.

We met at Blaines locker briefly before he caught the bus. I assured him I would ask my mom if I could stay over and I'd call him as soon as I had an answer. I would ride the bus home with him tomorrow if I could go.

I hurried home in my excitement to ask if I could stay over. Mom wasn't there, however. She must have been still working. I rummaged through the fridge and found something for my after school snack. It was left over something or other. Whatever it was, it was better then than it was at dinner the previous night.

Haven satisfied my hunger for the moment, I headed toward my room out of habit, and sat on my bed reading my current book. It changed every two or three days depending on the size and how much I read. I figure I was reading almost 1000 pages a week at that point(I read almost 500 now).

I heard Hannah come in. I ignored her as much as was possible. But at that moment, it wasn't possible. She just opened my door with out knocking or anything. It irritated me to no end when she did that.

"You staying over at your boyfriends this weekend? I wanna have some friends over and I DON'T want you screwing things up."

I didn't respond, and kept reading like she wasn't there. She was getting impatient and I didn't care. She would learn how to knock whether she liked it or not.

"Kurt I'm talking to you." I still ignored her. She walked into my room, pulled down my book and got in my face. "I asked you a ques- Hey!" I had pushed her away, palm to nose. She wasn't expecting it, so she fell on her butt. It was hilarious. "What did you do that for!?"

"If you had knocked like I've asked you to, it wouldn't have happened, now would it? And to answer you question, I will be at Blaine's." She got up as I spoke. I purposely avoided the boyfriend remark, but it did send a chill down my spine. I hate being paranoid!

"Good You and your BOY-friend have a good time. I'm sure I will since I won't have to look at you." With that she turned around and started to leave. Before she could close the door, I couldn't resist a final parting shot.

"You won't have to look at me, but looking at me is better than having to look at yourself in the mirror!"

All she could do is make and exasperated sound and slam my door. I chuckled to myself and made an imaginary mark in the air. Score one for my side. I went back to my book.

One of the main characters had just realized what it meant to have a certain color dragon. It was suggested that if you had a green dragon, you were gay. I had read this book more than thirty times, I swear, and I had never picked up on that before. I put the book down in my lap and pondered what the ramifications of that would be. Greens were the most numerous of all or the colors, making up about 20% of the total population. And since greens were all female (the only females except the golden queens that numbered two or three per den), that meant that 20% of the riders were gay. Over five hundred dragons per den and only the queen riders were women. That meant over 100 gay guys. I chuckled. What would the world be like if one out of five guys was gay?

It certainly would make things easier. Being gay wouldn't be looked down on as much as it is now. But it isn't that way.

My thoughts turned serious as I once again went over what being gay meant to the way I would lead my life. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became.

Eventually someone would find out. I would prefer that it wasn't by catching us doing something, but rather by my telling them. But how could I tell my parents? I wasn't sure how they would react. My mom might be okay, but she might completely turn on me too. My dad would kick me out, of that I was sure. He had never said anything bad against gays, but it was a feeling I had. And what if it were Blaine's mom or dad?

Joe would kill us. He wouldn't be able to handle his only son being a fag. And if he caught us at a particularly bad time, he'd kill me for turning his son in to one. Or maybe he'd kill us on general principle. I was certain that either way, we'd get killed.

Now, Blaine's mom would probably just ignore the fact Blaine was gay. It would be too much for her to handle, so she wouldn't acknowledge the fact. I didn't know if she would protect him from Joe or not. Brenda was very big on appearances. If no one saw anything wrong, then nothing WAS wrong.

Mom finally go home about five after five. I pounced the moment she walked in the door.

"Hi, Mom. Blaine asked if I could stay over this weekend. Is that okay with you?" She could sense my excitement, I am sure. And since I didn't get excited that easily, she smelled a rat.

"Why? What are you guys going to do?"

Thinking quickly, I answered with partial truth.

"We're going riding in the hills. He found some new trails we haven't been on before. And probably some computer games, too."

"Uh huh," she said, knowing that I had not told her everything, "Well, it's alright with me. I'll call his mother and make sure she is okay with it."

She walked over to the phone and dialed up Blaine's number. He must have answered the phone and asked for his mom. After the usual "Uh huh's" and "Okay's" she said goodbye and hung up.

"Ok, you can go, but stay out of trouble, you hear?"

"Me? Trouble? Never." I grinned and hugged her. "Thanks, Mom." Even though she was a cold calculating bitch at times, she was still my mom.

She smiled indulgently and patted me on my head in a motherly fashion. Again I wondered what had happened to change her.

Hannah picked this opportunity to stick her head into things.

"Mom, guess what Kurt did! He put his hand in my face and pushed me down! I landed on my bottom!"

I spoke quickly before Mom could react. "I told you that if you had knocked I would have answered your question!"

Mom peered at the two of us for a moment. "Hannah, did you knock?"

Looking sheepish, she said, "No, but he shoved me!"

"Kurt what have I told you about manhandling your sister?"

"She just barged in and didn't knock or anything. She deserved it."

"Did not!"

"Did too."

"Enough. Hannah, you knock from now on, you hear me? And Kurt, do not touch your sister like that again."

Good. A draw. Neither one of us gained the upper hand on that skirmish, so I guess it was a small victory.

I went to my room and started packing my bag for the weekend. I packed some a couple of pairs of jeans and some t-shirts, as well as a long sleeved shirt for riding (have you ever had a branch whip you at thirty miles and hour?). Lessee. Underwear, socks, boots. That's about it. I'd grab my book in the morning to read before I went to sleep. I had to read to fall asleep.

Dinner was uneventful. My dad smiled at me as he came home. Another unusual occurrence. I felt like I was in an old Twilight Zone episode. Hannah asked Mom and Dad if she could have friends over tomorrow night and they said she could, knowing that I wouldn't be around to cause her problems.

After dinner, the nightly TV ritual. But about 7:30, Dad and Mom asked Hannah to go watch TV in her room; that they needed to talk to me. My blood ran cold. I couldn't doe the life of me think of why they wanted to talk to me now. The skipping incident had been dealt with last night, or so I thought.

As Hannah pouted and left, my Dad stood and followed her to her room, ensuring she closed her door.

Coming back, he looked significantly more nervous than he had leaving. My mom had that nervous look, too. Oh, Fuck! What was going on here? I was in real trouble this time, I was sure of it.

Dad cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. "Son, we need to discuss something with you." He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and then continued.

"Your mom and I haven't been very good to one another. We have been going to counseling for quite a while now, and we fell it's time to let you and Hannah know what is going on. We'll talk to Hannah separately, because there may be things said that she doesn't need to hear. First off, we are NOT getting a divorce, so put it out of your mind. Secondly, we both owe you kids and apology, especially you. You have always been our 'perfect little boy'," he said that as a title, "and you haven't gotten the attention you deserve from us. For that we are TRULY sorry. You just didn't seem to have any problems that required our attention. But in our counseling sessions, we found out that kids need attention even when they aren't in trouble." He sat forward in his seat, leaning toward me. I looked into his eyes, and I could tell he was sincere. For the first time in my life, I held his gaze and didn't feel the need to look away.

"You may be wondering why we are having this conversation now. Last night, when you told you mom why you skipped, she was angry. All she could see at that point was -HANNAH INTO YOUR ROOM NOW!"

I whipped my head around and saw her back as she fled to her exile. I knew she wouldn't venture out of her room after a blast like that. How much had she heard? I returned my attention to Dad.

"All she could see was you disobeying her. After you were in your room, she thought about what you had said, and waited until I got home and told me what happened. I asked you about it and I could tell you were telling the truth. Your mom and I talked it over and she realized she had wronged you. She apologized. But that isn't why we are here now."

He sat back in his seat again and looked at Mom. I looked back and forth between them, waiting for one of them to speak. Mom cleared her throat and spoke.

"You have rarely given us trouble, Kurt. You have made mistakes, but every child does. Our job is to point it out and make sure you learn from them, so later on you can go out on your own and make your own decisions.

"The decision you made yesterday to skip school and help a friend in need was the correct decision. You made a choice that his needs outweighed a few hours of class work. I would have done the same thing." She reached back and scratched her ear, looking like she wasn't sure what to say next. A few seconds later she went on.

"As far as I can tell, that is one of the first adult decisions you have made. It made me realize how fast you are growing up." Her eyes started to tear and her voice had a tremor in it. Dad put his hand on hers and squeezed.

"Here's what we are going to do KAY." Dad was looking me in the eyes as he spoke to me. "You set your own bedtime from now on, unless you abuse it. You can go where you want when you want within reason, as long as you tell us where and with whom and what time you will be back. And if you aren't going to make it back in time, give us a call. If you act as an adult, we will treat you as an adult.

"All we ask in return for these privileges is that you don't discuss them with your sister or lord them over her. If she asks you why you can do something and she can't, send her to one of us and we will deal with it. Anything else?"

Mom shook her head, and then said, "Just because we choose let you go where and when you want does not mean that there won't be sometimes we want you home, okay?"

I nodded. My mind was tumbling over and over trying to make sense of what was going on. Why this sudden change of events? I was sure that last nights incident was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

"And there are some things we do not want you to do. Drinking, drugs, those are still off limits, of course. And we prefer that you don't have sex. If you are thinking about it, we want you to come to us first." Their tone and expression said this was a demand, not a request.

"I don't drink or do drugs. And I haven't had sex." I hoped they wouldn't ask if I was considering it. I wasn't sure I could lie to them and get away with it in these close quarters. Fortunately, they didn't ask.

They nodded. "Any questions, squirter?" Ugh. I hated that nickname. It came from when I was a baby and peed in my moms face. She used it unconsciously, and still does even today.

"Why did you guys go to counseling in the first place? I mean, I never noticed anything going on."

Dad sighed and looked at his feet, almost like he was ashamed of something. I was curious what could possibly shame my father.

"When I was in the war, and after I got home, all my emotions were bottled up. I just didn't feel them. Because of that, I haven't been capable of giving your mom the love she deserves. Or you kids for that matter. It came to a head about six months ago. Your mom got sick of watching me go from zero to rage, and told me if I didn't get help to deal with this, She was going to take you kids and go to your grandparents place. That scared me enough to get help. And I am still getting help, by the way. Your mom just joins me once every other week so she can learn how to help me. Brian, I love you and your mom more than anything in the world. Hannah, too. All I ask from you is to be there for me when I need you.

"Can you do that? My therapist wants to talk to you too. It's okay to do that. And it is okay to tell him everything. He can't help me if he doesn't know the problem."

"I can do it. You sure you're going to stay together?" They both nodded and my dads grip tightened on my mom's hand.

"We're staying together, if your mom will still have me." He looked at my mom and she got an exasperated look on her face.

"I told you before. We are together. I will help you, and you'll help me. That is what the vows meant. We will get through this." I could tell this was a conversation they had had many times before. "Anything else, Son?" I shook my head. "If you have any more questions, ask us. We will answer as best we can."

"Thanks for talking to me." I walked over to them and hugged them, first Mom, then Dad. "And thanks for everything else, too. I'll try not to disappoint you."

"We know you will, son. Remember we both love you and are proud of you."

I smiled in reply and headed off to my room to finish packing. Today turned out to be a great day after all.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

I had finished packing quite a while ago, and now, just before falling asleep, I lay thinking about what my dad had said. Neither one of us showed much emotion. I didn't show anything to protect myself. (If you don't let them see you cry, they don't know they got to you, right?). My dad did it so he didn't HAVE to feel anything. I hoped that I wouldn't get to that point. I wouldn't be able to live with myself then. It was hard enough now.

My dad had said he was proud of me, too. That was the first time I remember him saying that to either of us kids. What I still didn't understand is why they chose now to make these radical changes.

I had a weird dream that night. I was somewhere that I recognized as home, but it wasn't my house. My mom told me that Blaine needed me more than she did, so she was sending me away to be with him, and I was never coming back. She had packed my bags and was shoving out the door. Brenda was there to pick me up. As Mom opened the car door, I remember she specifically said, "I'm tired of taking care of you. You have to take care of yourself now." Dad was watching TV as I left the house and didn't even acknowledge that I was there or that I was leaving. Hannah was throwing a party in the dining room. Not much made sense, really. I woke up before I actually got to Blaine's place, groggy and exhausted.

School the next day went pretty well, except for the usual run-ins with David and the pack. He took the opportunity to knock my books out of my hand, slam my locker door closed just after I had opened it- twice. The usual taunts and insults. I was SO glad that the year was effectively over. I could forget about David and concentrate on Blaine!

I turned in that essay I had written and Mr. Young graded it on the spot- B+. Exactly what I figured. Minimal effort and a decent grade.

Blaine and I did the usual stuff at lunch, that is, we skipped out and went to the bleachers, just nattering on about what we were going to do tomorrow. Nothing intimate was discussed. I don't think we were ready for that. We were just two boys dreaming up mischief and planning destruction.

The warning bell rang and lunch ended. Classes went quickly that afternoon, surprisingly. There was no work to speak of in any of my afternoon classes. I spent most of the time drawing landscapes in pencil. I wasn't good, but I enjoyed it.

At last, the bell ending the school day went off. I sprinted to my locker, trying to get there before David could find me, and so I could get my bag and meet Blaine at his locker before we headed for the bus. Luck was with me, and I didn't catch sight of him or the pack.

I found Blaine talking to Chris. Blaine was throwing handfuls of papers into a trashcan he had moved to his locker. Apparently they had finished their conversation by the time I got there, because Chris turned away, heading down the hall.

"Hey Kurt, Howzit going?" he said as he walked away, headed for his locker.

"Fine. Talk to you later, Chris. You ready, Blaine?

"Just about. I have to take home some of this crap in here so I don't have to deal with it next week. Man! Where did all this come from?" He was pulling out old assignments and junk that had accumulated in the bottom of his locker over the course of the year. A piece of paper in one of the handfuls caught my attention. It was covered with bright red hearts and fancy letters. I though it was a valentine or something that Melody had given him. As I looked closer, I thought I saw my name in one of the hearts.

Now curious, I made a grab for the paper before Blaine could toss it into the trash, and ended up knocking the whole handful to the ground, scattering it across the hallway.

"Smooth move. What did you do that for?"

"I thought I saw something with my name on it."

"I don't know what it could have been. These are just old assignments and.." His eye caught the paper I was looking for and he MOVED. I had never seen him move like that, so fast he was a virtual blur. He quickly buried that colored paper underneath others as he picked them up from the hall floor, trying to hide it from my view. He continued to gather up the papers I had knocked out of his hand.

I casually stepped in front of the trashcan, blocking Blaine access to it. When Blaine turned around to throw the pile in the trash, I just held out my hand. He said, "What?" and tried to give me an innocent look, but failed miserably. I just stood there with a knowing grin on my face and my hand out.

He quickly looked around. Seeing no one was near enough to overhear us, he rifled through the stack and lifted the papers slightly so I could see what was written. There really wasn't a bunch of words like I though, but just doodles and lines. But here and there was my name stylized with flourishes and a few hearts here and there. Then I saw something that warmed my heart. In tiny script, Pete had written "I love Kurt" over and over again to form one of the hearts. He must have spent hours on this. I also noticed that it had, at one point, been torn into several pieces. The paper had been taped together very carefully, so that the tears weren't noticeable unless examined closely.

I pointed out the tape and asked, "What happened?"

He covered up the drawing, and then took it out of the stack, sandwiched with two or three other papers. He carefully placed it in his backpack as he answered me.

"Melody found that in my locker one day. I had forgotten I hid it in one of my books one night when my dad came in. I took it out before going to class and melody got into my locker. She had my combo, you know?" I nodded as ice formed in my gut. "She ripped it to shreds. At first she thought it was for her. Then she saw your name. That's why we broke up. I told her I was gay. As if she couldn't figure it out when I couldn't get it up." He kicked at the floor, his head down. "I told her that you didn't know I loved you or that I was gay. I told her I was sorry. She just turned around and left me there, standing in the parking lot. She hasn't spoken to me since, except to say she won't tell anyone. Now she won't even look me in the eye." Blaine was obviously uncomfortable telling me this. He stood there staring at the floor shifting from side to side, not sure if he should stand still or run. He glanced up at me to see my reaction, held my gaze for an instant, and dropped his eyes again.

"Hey. I don't care what happened between you two. What I do care about is you and how you feel." I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave it a good squeeze, continuing at just above a whisper. "It makes me feel great that you love me, even if I can't show it or show you that I love you back." He raised his head and looked me in the eyes once more. "I just want you to know that I love you too. I'm not going anywhere. And I want that drawing for my scrapbook."

He smiled and nodded his head in agreement. His face fell, however, as we heard the busses pull away from the school. "Oh, shit! We missed the bus!"

"Don't worry, I'll get my mom to take us over to your place. C'mon, lets head to my house."

" 'K. Just gimme a sec to finish this up." He continued to empty papers into the trash. When he had finished, he closed his locker and we walked the mile or so to my house, chattering like magpies.

Blaine called his mom, told her he had missed the bus, and that I would ask my mom to bring us over later. She said to call back if my mom couldn't bring us, for what ever reason. Blaine hung up just as Hannah walked in.

"Oh, the lovebirds are here." I heard a snicker behind her. She stepped aside to reveal he friend Darlene, another of my favorite people. "Why don't you two get out of here. Your supposed to be at your boyfriends house anyway Kurt!" It was stated as an accusation, like I was purposely trying to ruin her good time or something.

I cocked my head at her like I had heard something off in the distance and then turned to Blaine. "You hear something? I though I heard a dog yapping."

Hannah took a couple of step toward me and raised her fist to hit me. "Shut up, you asshole!" She took a swing that I easily avoided. I quickly backed out of her reach and turned toward my room, motioning Blaine to follow me.

Again, the urge to get in the parting shot was too much to ignore. "Yup. I was right. A dog yapping." She started toward me again, following us down the hall. Just as I got to my room, I said, "And from the sound of it, it's a bitch in heat." I shut my door quickly and leaned against it to brace for the storm that was sure to come. I had no sooner set myself than the door shuddered with her impact.

Again and again she tried to force the door with her shoulder, screaming obscenities and pronouncing dire fates that awaited me when she got her hands on me. It was all I could do to hold the laughter in and hold the door shut. Blaine was rolling on my bed with suppressed mirth, grinning his fool head off.

Hannah finally stopped bashing herself into the door and started pounding it with her fist. Three or four punches was all it took to put a baseball-sized hole the door. I knew instantly what had happened. I took a calculated risk, opened my door, and seeing no blood, quickly shut it again.

"Dad's gonna kill you Hannah. That's the second door this year!"

"Shut up you bastard." She and her bitch of a friend slithered off to concoct a story that would somehow change this incident to be my responsibility.

As she walked down the hall, Blaine could contain himself no more. He started laughing so hard he had tears rolling down his cheeks. The more he looked at me, the harder he laughed. I sat down on the bed, took him by the shoulders, and kissed him squarely on the mouth. His laughing stopped immediately, replaced by random giggles as we kissed deeply, exploring each others lips and mouth.

We were interrupted a few minutes later with the sound of the front door closing. Mom was home, most likely, or maybe Hannah and Darlene had gone outside. Nope, Hannah's yowling was loud and clear as she reported my transgressions. A few moments later I heard my mom's voice as she silenced Hannah's diatribe.

My door opened and Mom looked in. She took another look at the hole through the door and then back at us. "Hello Bliane."

"Hi Mom," we chorused. She liked it when my friends called her Mom. It cleared up the confusion and eliminated the cumbersome "Mrs. Kellam".

"I see there has been a war in the short time you've been home. Why do you provoke her, Kurt? She said you walked in on her and started calling her a bitch." The flip side of Blaine calling her Mom was that she reamed me out in front of him. "Well, what is your version?"

I opted to tell the truth, again. "Blaine and I got here just ahead of the girls. She walked in and started calling us boyfriend and stuff. It made me angry. I didn't start it this time." I looked her straight in the eye. A long time ago, I had learned that this was how she told if I was lying or not.

"Well, okay. Just try not to make your sister so angry, and I'll tell her to leave you alone. Come to that, why ARE you still here. You were supposed to ride the bus out to Blaines, weren't you?"

"We missed the bus and walked here. Mrs. Jameson said she would come and pick us up if you couldn't drive us out."

"Get ready to go. I am going to talk to Hannah really quick. I'll meet you in the car."

I got up from the bed, Blaine following. We grabbed our bags and headed out to the car. As we passed Hannah and Darlene, they glared at us. Darlene was actually pissed at me because I called Hannah a bitch. Next time I would have to remember to include her in the insult.

Mom waited until we were out the door before speaking to the girls, but I did hear a loud "MOOoooOMMMM!" so I knew Hannah wasn't pleased with what she was told. I chuckled as Hannah did the same.

Mom came out of the house, and before she shut the door, she looked in and said "I mean what I said Hannah. No more." Closing the door, she walked to the car, a look of irritation on her face. Then her expression changed to one of concern "What am I going to do with you two?" I didn't answer. I don't think she really expected one. At least I hoped she didn't. And why the concerned look? Did she suspect something? Man, I really could drive myself crazy with this paranoia.

The drive up to Blaine's place went by quickly. We rode in silence the whole way, not wanting to provoke Mom further or prompt her to ask questions I didn't want to answer. When we got to Blaine's, she smiled and told us to have a good time. She also reminded me to watch my manners. I assured her I would.

Blaine's house was a moss green three story, looking like two levels from the front and the third, lower level opening to the back yard about ten feet below, kind of like a basement. The bottom floor was the playroom, as they called it. That was where Blainex and I messed around when we were stuck inside. The front yard was well groomed and had several old fir trees around the perimeter of the lawn. They had been left there during construction. The house had an attached two car garage and a separate three car garage/workshop off to the left side. The driveway from both garages attached to the road which made a loop around a huge fir tree in front of the house. The area around the house that wasn't lawn was cleared of underbrush so the feel was open forest. The back yard was fenced in by a wooden slat fence about six feet high. It was still wide enough to have a decent game of football, though.

We went in the front door, Blaine calling to his mom and letting know we were here. She came out and greeted me, asking me how I was, and inquiring about my parents as well. I made the appropriate responses and headed to Blaine's bedroom, where we dumped our bags.

We changed out of our clothes and into riding gear. I watched Blaine as he stripped down to his underwear. I stood there in a daze and just stared at his perfect body. Blaine, of course, noticed that I had stopped undressing and was staring. He took the opportunity to strut his stuff and finished taking his clothes off in a seductive, erotic manner. He had his desired effect and giggled when he saw my shorts tenting. I broke out of my reverie and smiled shyly. As he pulled on his riding gear, I finished undressing.

As I took off my pants and got ready to put on a pair of jeans, Mrs. Jameson opened the door. Of course, I was still hard and yelped as I stood up to hide that fact from here. Blaine looked up at his mom with annoyance and said "Jeez, Mom, why can't you ever knock?"

She responded, "You haven't got anything I haven't seen before."

I wanted to say "I do!" but thought better of it.

"You boys don't go far, because we are having an early dinner. Your father and I have some things to do this evening. I want you in the house for the night before we leave. Blaine, I'd like to talk to you for a minute before you go. Could you come with me, please?"

He got up and followed her out of the room, a wary look on his face. I waited until he got out of the room and finished dressing in my jeans, hiking boots and a heavy shirt. I waited for him to return.

Blaine came back about ten minutes later, looking depressed. He collapsed more than sat on his bed, giving me a look I can only call fear. I moved over to sit by him, but he stopped me with a glance, motioning me to shut the door he had left open.

Shutting the door, I turned back and sat next to him. "Mom is going to tell Dad. She said she couldn't keep it from him, that he deserved to know. Kurt, he will kill me. I mean it! He will literally kill me! What am I going to do?" He looked at me, despondent.

His assessment was pretty accurate as far as I could tell. His father probably would try to kill him, or at least beat the shit out of him. I didn't know what Pete's mom would do, either.

I slid down to the floor, crouching in front of Blaine on one knee. I put my hands on his and gripped them tightly. Looking deeply into his eyes, I felt something I had never experienced before. I wanted to protect him, to take him into my arms and shield him from his fathers wrath. I wanted to make him feel safe, secure. I wanted him to know how much I loved him, at that moment, with every fiber of my being.

"Blaine," He lowered his eyes as I began to speak. I released his hand and raised his face, so he was looking in my eyes once more. "If your dad wants to kill you, he is going to have to kill me, too. I won't let him hurt you without a fight. I will do everything I can possibly do to protect you, even if it means I have to die, too." He shook his head, trying to negate what I was saying, tried to speak, but I gently stopped him with my fingertips on his lips. "I mean what I say. You mean more to me than anything. I won't lose you. I won't let it happen. And I have never meant something as much as I mean this. We are in this together."

As tears formed in his eyes, I leaned forward and embraced him around the waist. He wrapped his arms around my head and squeezed me, confirming his love for me.

I heard Joe walk in the front door. He entered with his usual bluster, yelling to tell the world who had arrived. I glanced up at Blaine and could see fear clouding his visage once more. I gave him another quick squeeze, letting him know I was there.

Suddenly I was angry. Beyond angry. How could she do this to Blaine tonight? I was visiting and she didn't care that I was here. Well, it was a good thing I was there. I needed to protect Blaine

"Let's get out of here. I want to ride." Blaine spoke with resignation in his voice.

"It'll be okay, bud. I'll be with you no matter what happens. And if we have to, we'll walk to my place. You'll be safe there. We- will- be- okay!" I spoke with conviction and resolve. I could see his expression begin to have some confidence in it, but not a lot. He was afraid of his dad, and rightly so.

We went out to the workshop and pulled out the dirt bikes. We put on our helmets and started them up. They were small Yamaha 80's, and that is all I knew about them. They had enough power for a thrilling ride, but not so much to make me feel out of control.

As Brenda had requested, we stayed near, tearing up and down the trails near the house. We passed the trail that wound around for about twelve miles and ended up about 500 yards from my house several times. I noticed Blaine looked down that trail several times as we passed it, like he was considering making a run for it. He never did, though. One time he stopped at the trail's head and sat there staring up the trail. I pulled up beside him and killed my engine. He killed his and then said, just loud enough for me to hear through my helmet, "I don't want to do this, Kurt. Why did I tell her? This wouldn't be happening if I hadn't told her."

I put my hand on his leg. "You wouldn't have told me, either, and we wouldn't be together. We WILL be together, no matter what happens. Even if we have to run away, we will be together. You and I are together, now and forever. I love you. Don't you dare forget that."

" I love you too. I don't want you to get hurt. Maybe you should go home. My dad is going to be majorly pissed off."

"No. I am not going anywhere but with you. We are together. I'm here, and I'm not leaving. Even if it means fighting your dad."

He looked at me, hard. He finally nodded once and started up his bike. As I started mine, he popped a wheelie and rode off down the path..

We rode for about an hour more and then we saw Brenda flagging us in.. As we coasted down the drive, she motioned Blaime over to her. I followed him up to her and stopped on the other side of Blaine, facing Brenda. Killing my engine, I quickly removed my helmet so I could hear what was said. Blaine was a bit slower than I was, giving me time.

"I want to speak to Blaine for a moment, if you don't mind, Kurt." It was a dismissal. I was immediately white hot. I wanted to hit her, but contained myself. I leaned forward and gave her the most menacing look a thirteen year old can muster.

"If this is about the conversation you are going to have with Joe, I do mind. I'm not leaving Blaine alone. We are together."

She was flabbergasted. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish a few times before she found her voice again.

"Call your mother and tell her to come get you. I'll speak with her after."

"No, ma'am, I won't do that. Blaines safety is much too important to me to allow you to send me home for this. You may not understand what I said earlier. I said we are together, and I meant it. He is the best friend I have, and more. I want to be here to protect him. I WILL be here to protect him. You can't tell me with out a doubt that Joe won't attack him- us.

"Yes, I am gay, too. The only reason I tell you is because I want you to know where I am coming from. If you force me to leave, I will call Child Protective Services if Blaine has so much as a scratch. You can NOT change my mind. This is too important."

Having recovered from her shock, she studied me closely, glaring into my eyes. I met her gaze impassively, determination written on my face. She sized me up and weighed my words for a good thirty seconds, Blaine shifting uncomfortably the whole time.

"Does your family know?" I shook my head.

"You are the first after Blaine."

"How do you know you love each other? I assume you think you do."

"I don't think I love him, Mom, I DO love him. And he loves me." Blaine spoke quietly but forcefully. I nodded my head decisively.

"Are you having sex?" Obvious distaste warred with concern about her son's well-being.

"No, we aren't yet. We haven't talked about it."

"Good. I don't want you to be unsafe. What happened to make you gay? What did I do wrong?" Her eyes were watering up. This wasn't a safe place to have this conversation.

"Let's go to the workshop so we can put away the bikes." I motioned to the house suggestively. Both Blaine and Brenda nodded.

Reaching the workshop, I dismounted and rolled the bike into the stall Joe had built for it. Pete rolled his in as soon as I was out of the way. Pete turned to his mom and answered her question.

"You didn't DO anything wrong. Nothing happened to make me gay. I just am. I've known it since I can remember, or put the word with my feelings. I am the same person, Mom." She looked at me for some reason, so I nodded. I guess I hoped it would reassure her.

Looking back and forth between us, she stood there wringing her hands together, conflicting emotions showing on her face. Then she lurched forward, taking Pete into her arms. They stood together for several long moments, just clinging to each other. Brenda looked over to me and held her arm open wide, inviting me into their embrace. I didn't hesitate, but moved to her. She wrapped me in a bear hug, squeezing me and Blainne together. I heard her whispering into Blaine's ear, and realizing what she was doing, spoke so I could hear her also.

"Kurt,Blaine, I am going to tell you the truth. This isn't something that will be easy for me. I have to adjust how I think, and that may take some time. I may say things that are hurtful and not realize it, or say things out of anger I don't really mean. I do want you both to know that I love you very much. I see how you two feel about each other, and I can accept that, even welcome it. And I respect that you want to protect Blaine, Kurt.. I want to, also. Tonight isn't going to be easy; I have already told Joe that we need to talk, and if I cancel, he is going to wonder why. But I will be there and I will protect you both.

"Kurt, I would expect him to call your parents and tell them almost immediately. Are you prepared for that?" I nodded hesitantly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. They will find out eventually anyway."

"Okay then. Lets go eat, and then you two disappear downstairs for a little while. I will talk to Joe. I am sure you will know when he has been told. Make sure you have the glass door unlocked, just in case."

She gave us another squeeze and then released us, telling us to get washed up for dinner.

As Blaine and I went to the bathroom to wash up, we decided to leave our riding pants on for dinner, in case we had to make a hasty retreat later. We did change into clean shirts, still suitable for riding through underbrush. All we would have to do is jump on the bikes and ride off. After some though, we got out backpacks and put our jackets, flashlights and a sweatshirt in them. We placed them by the glass door for ease of escape.

Brenda called us to the table. If she noticed that we hadn't changed pants, she gave no sign.

Dinner was the usual boisterous affair, Joe making comments on his day and asking us if we had girlfriends or were going to the end of school dance, things like that. Things that had absolutely no relevance to us. He also made a few reference to the "fags" down at the firehouse and how pathetic they were. I felt Blaine squeeze my leg as Joe ranted on and on.. Neither of us ate much. We were too nervous. Joe didn't seem to notice, but I am sure Brenda did.

Thankfully dinner ended. Brenda told us she would take care of the dishes, so we made our way downstairs. We made sure that all was ready, just in case. Then we sat down to wait for judgment. We didn't have to wait long either.

Dishes were broken and glasses shattered, silverware was thrown. The noise was deafening, but above it all we could hear Joe's enraged voice detailing what he was going to do when he got his hands on that "no good little faggot". I began to get scared as I heard Joe stomp his way toward the door leading down to where we were, but then I heard Brenda's footsteps racing over. She must have blocked him.

Blaine had turned a shade of gray I had never seen on a human before. His skin looked pasty and he was sweating, swallowing over and over. I moved to sit next to him and wrapped my arm around him. Placing my other hand on his knee, I held him tightly, letting him know I was there. He just stared up the stairs at the door.

"Get out of my way, Brenda! I have to teach that boy a lesson! He wants to be gay does he? Well, we'll just see after I talk to him!" I heard Brenda grunt.

"Joe, NO! He's your son! If you."

"He's no son of mine! You had your chance to raise him. He turned out to be a faggot. Now I have to teach him to be a man."

The door at the top of the stairs opened and we bolted toward the glass door. Blaine opened the door and grabbed his pack. I was right behind him. I could hear Joe's feet on the stairs.

"Oh no you don't, you little homo, you're not going any where!"

I reached down for my pack and tried to pick it up, but my fingers slipped and I dropped it. I reached down and picked it up again, feeling like Joe was right on top of me. I took off for the door. I was almost outside when I felt a hand close on my jacket collar.

"Joe, NO!"


	8. Chapter 8

I have no idea how I slipped out of my coat, but I did. I dropped my backpack, extended my arms backward and ran for my life. As I disappeared into the forest following Blaine, I heard Joe bellowing with rage.

"Get back here! I'm not through with you!" Of course, my adrenaline was pumping so fast that he might as well have been speaking a different language. I ignored his outraged roar and tore out after my love into the woods.

We ran for at least ten minutes, weaving in and out of trees and running over ferns and huckleberry bushes in our haste, heading for our fort that we had carved out of the underbrush last summer. The cool thing about the fort was that unless you knew exactly what to look for, it just appeared to be a huge clump of underbrush with a few trees sticking out of it. It was well concealed, with the entrance screened by a huge sword fern that had fronds longer than I was tall. Inside, we had cut a ten foot wide hollow into the Azalea bushes and the various trees that formed the perimeter. The space was large enough for us to stand, but barely so. There was a roof of sorts formed by the underbrush. It hid us from above, but didn't keep the rain out. We also had made a rabbit hole out the back side, and if we had to, we could always crash through the walls. This place would hide us for a while. No one else knew where it was.

Blaine had easily outdistanced me through the forest, a result of his track training, where I had played baseball, not the most athletic of sports. Finally I reached the fort and carefully picked my way through the fern, careful to keep all the fronds intact. As I walked into the opening, I paused to catch my breath.

I glanced at Blaine. What I saw tore out my heart. He was standing there in the shadows, face dappled by the fading afternoon sun reaching through the brush. The light caught his many tears, make him a tragic figure. He stood there just looking at me, face contorted into a mask of suffering and ultimate sadness. His mouth was working, trying to say something, anything, but unable to. I tried to move toward him but I was frozen in place by the visage in front of me.

He looked to the heavens and screamed. I never want to hear its like again. I swear that it was the sound of his soul crying out in torment, like his very life force was leaving him to express his pain. And it went on and on, crying out his grief and anguish.

At long last, he exhausted his breath and collapsed to his knees sobbing loudly. I found I could move again and was next to him faster than a blink. Putting his arms around me, I pulled him to me. We over balanced and fell to the ground. I didn't care. My love was in pain and he needed me. And I needed him.

Blaine was not a huge kid, but he was strong. So strong I thought he might break my ribs. He held on, like a drowning man to a life raft, wailing into my shoulder. I could feel his hot tears soaking through my shirt, and my own running down my face and falling into his hair. His shaking was uncontrollable, made worse by the wracking sobs that came so often I thought he was going to fall apart in my arms. Every so often Blaine would moan and then throw his head into my shoulder, trying to bury himself in my body.

I held him for a long time. The next time I was aware of what was around me, it was near dark. I had thought I heard Brenda's voice a couple of times, calling our names, but we didn't answer. How she could have not heard us, I'll never understand. Maybe she had found us and decided to leave us be. Either way, I didn't care.

As he calmed, Blaine began to tell me of all the shit his dad had put him through over the years, trying to make sure he would be a real man. Trying to toughen Blaine up, make him callous and macho just like he was. I spit in disgust. Several times. Some of the things he described were nothing short of torture, forcing this sensitive boy to suppress his desires, hide his true feelings, and ultimately bend to his will.

I can honestly say that I have never been so angry as I was at that moment. I really wanted to kill Joe in a slow, painful manner. Of course, I would never actually do it, but I relished each and every thought.

Blaine sniffled, wiping his face on his sleeve. "What now? Where can I go? I can't go home." He had a haunted expression on his face, like he wanted to look over his shoulder.

"That's the easy part. We go to my house. I am sure you can stay there until we get stuff sorted out. And we have my fort if we need to hide." We had built a similar fort in the brush not too far from my house. Not nearly as large, but the two of us could sit comfortably, and sleep there if necessary, after I got the sleeping bags in our closet. "Why don't we wait a while longer and then go get the bikes. We can ride by flashlight to my place."

"You lost your back pack, though."

"I'll sneak in and get it, or I'll ride right behind you. Maybe we can ride double. It doesn't matter. But we can't stay here tonight. I don't have a jacket." I paused. "Look at me."

He turned his head toward me, his eyes meeting mine. My heart broke. Eyes are not meant to express that kind of sorrow. Especially the eyes of a young boy. This young boy.

I spoke slowly and deliberately, punctuating my words with a squeeze of my arms. "We will get through this. I know it's your dad, but you and I are together, and that makes this OUR fight. I will make sure you are safe, and then we will take care of anything that comes our way."

"I don't want to drag you into this,K. I don't want to burden you with my-"

"DON'T! DON'T SAY IT! YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN! WE ARE TOGETHER! We are together. What happens to you happens to US! If I were in your situation, I am sure that you would be here for me. Right? RIGHT?" He nodded. "And for all I know, my situation may be the same as yours is. You know Dad. Mom may understand now. A week ago, never. But now maybe.

"What time is it?"

Blaine glanced at his watch. "Eight fifteen. Lets wait until ten and then go for the bike."

"Okay. I wish I had a cell phone, I'd call my mom."

"Yeah, me too. Hey, Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

His eyes pierced my soul. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you are here right now. If I had to go through this alone, I don't know what I'd do. I mean, where would I be able to go?" He sighed heavily and then looked me in the eyes once again. There was a fierce determination and resolve in his gaze behind the sadness.

"Kurt, I love you. I love you now more than ever. Why you love me, I don't know, but I am so grateful you do. I was so afraid that you would run away when I told you, that you would tell everyone about me. Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would love me back. You're right, Kurt. We are together. And no matter how it turns out with your folks, I want you to know that I am with you , and I won't leave you. I want to be with you forever. All I can do is hope that you want to be with me." His eyes were pleading now. How could he convey so many emotions with his eyes?

"Forever." A simple word loaded with meaning. Yes, we were going to be together forever. And if that meant defying my parents so we could be one, then so be it.

We sat there in a companionable melancholy silence, just soaking in each others' presence. Neither of us spoke much, relying instead on little gestures to covey our feelings. He would stroke my cheek, I would squeeze his hand. He would snake his arm around me and hug me, I would hug him back. We shared tender kisses as night completely overtook day, the only light from the moon filtering through the leaves, giving the scene a surreal aspect.

Ten o'clock came at last. We crept out of our sanctuary and moved quietly back toward Blaine's house. It took us some time to get there, as we couldn't really see where we were going. We didn't dare use the flashlight because it may be seen and we didn't really want to face Joe.

The house was dark. Both Brenda's car and Joe's truck were gone. That meant the house was empty. I pointed out the missing cars to Blaine and he nodded grimly. Motioning Blaine to get the bike out and get ready to go, I padded over and tried the front door. Locked, of course. I pantomimed keys and he dug them out of his pocket, tossing them to me. Since it was dark, I missed them and they made a loud clatter on the cement. We both froze, but there was no reaction from the house.

Picking up the keys, I found the right one and unlocked the deadbolt. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and jumped back, expecting someone to leap out at me. No one came. I quickly ran through the house and down the stairs. My backpack and jacket were on the floor, with shards of broken glass and debris caused by Joe's rampage.

One thing did catch my attention. It was a picture of Joe and Blaine at the lake where they take their fishing trip in the spring. They had looked happy together in that picture, Joe ruffling Blaine's hair, both smiling. Now it was in little pieces, torn up and strewn about with the rest of the trash.

Quickly, I grabbed my jacket and back pack, bolted up the stairs and out the front door. I debated on taking the time to lock it and decided we shouldn't advertise the fact we had been there. I turned the key in the lock, sliding the bolt home.

Blaine started up the bike, it's roar shattering the silence. As I hurried over to the bike, I dug out the flashlight I had put into my backpack. We would need the extra light it would provide. As an afterthought, I ran back into the workshop and got the big battery powered work light that Joe used when he was under a car or truck working on the engine. It would give us even more light.

I slipped my helmet on as I mounted the bike, turned on the work light, and we were off. Blaine took it nice and easy, since we weren't really in a hurry and is WAS dark out. We wound through the woods, following the trail we knew so well. Riding mostly in silence, we agreed sometime during the trip to walk the last five hundred yards, just in case. We would stash the bike at my fort and hoof it from there.

As we got closer to the fort, I began to worry a bit. I had never been out here in full dark, and never from this direction. I hoped I could find the entrance, and we did find it with no problem. We pushed the bike into the low clearing, putting it down carefully. Since we no longer needed the work light, we left it with the bike. I took a brief last look around to ensure that no one else had been there, and it appeared the fort was still our secret.

Once more shouldering our packs, we headed toward my house, circling around to come at it from a different direction out of habit. We had hidden our fort from Her Royal Hind Ass for over a year. I knew she searched out in the direction we came from because we had come upon her one day as we returned from a jaunt into the hills. She even told us that when she finally found our hidey-hole, she would destroy it, so naturally we told her all about it and that she would never find it. (I never will understand why she hated me so much.)

Approaching our neighborhood, Blaine pointed out that there were lights flashing about where my house was. Red and blue lights. The cops were at my house. I stopped, falling behind a couple of steps before Blaine turned and looked at me.

"Maybe we should camp out here until the cops leave. I don't want to walk into there and no know what is going on."

"Hey, do you think Chris is up? Maybe we can go there until things chill out."

"We can try, but I don't know if his mom will call mine or not. Better we hang here, I think." Blaine looked dubious, but didn't press the issue.

Not more than five minutes after we halted our advance, I saw three flashlights ranging in our direction. They were really bright, like the ones the police use. They were about 200 yards away, separated by about thirty yards, and I could faintly hear them calling our names. They may have heard the bike, I realized suddenly.

"Let's head back to the fort, Blaine. I don't like this."

"We have to head down there sooner or later, and I can't think of a safer place to be than with the cops, can you?"

Before I could come up with an answer, I heard a voice I recognized. It belonged to one of the local patrolmen. Danny and my dad had served together in the army, sort of. Not the same unit, but the same time period. They met each other when they got back in the States. He and Dad had been close friends, if Dad had any.

"Kurt! Blaine! I know you can hear me! I heard the bike, and Brenda told us you have one. It's okay to come out now. Joe isn't going to get anywhere near you two. We've already taken care of that." Blaine and I exchanged glances. "If you don't come out, we'll have to bring out the dog and track you down. Hannah told us about your fort out this way. Come on boys! I swear to you it is okay." One thing I knew about Danny, when he gave his word, he meant it.

"I think it's all right, Blaine. I trust Danny." He hesitated, and then nodded We started toward Danny's voice. I turned on the flashlight and immediately all three patrolmen flashed us with their lights. Shielding my eyes, I yelled, "Mind turning those down a bit?" They didn't respond.

Danny's voice came again from behind the center light he must have been holding. "Kurt, put the light down, and drop your back packs. We just need to make sure everyone is safe here We need to check you for weapons. Just stay there and don't move. Everything will be okay, I promise."

I stopped, took a step backward, and looked at Blaine. He looked as confused as I felt. Danny kept talking.

"Joe has been arrested, and we need to be sure that you aren't going to do anything stupid, okay? All we are going to do is pat you down and search your packs, then we'll walk you to the house."

Blaine and I both had the same reaction at the same time. We started to back away because we were frightened.

"Don't Move! Hands up! Hands up NOW!" The other cops were screaming at us, and it scared us even more.

Danny's bellow cut through. "STAND DOWN! Kurt Blaine, come on now. These guys don't know you like I do, so they think that you may be a danger right now. I know better." He lowered his light. I could see his silhouette now. He had his hands out to his side, empty except for the flashlight.

I made my decision. Looking at Blaine, I put my arm around his shoulder and gently propelled him toward Danny. The other cops didn't say a word, but did follow us with their lights. We approached slowly, not hurrying, but not hesitating either. Danny dropped his arms to his sides as we reached him. He spoke quietly and gently, asking us to drop our packs. The other officers were close behind us, and emptied out the backpacks. Danny quickly patted us down, asked Blaine to take out his pocket knife, and just as quickly returned it to him.

"Your parents are worried about you two, Kurt. And your mom was nearly hysterical, Blaine. What happened up there? All Brenda would say is you two had a fight with Joe." He looked from Blaine to me expectantly. Seeing we weren't going to answer, he leaned in and dropped his voice so only Blaine and I could hear it. "Joe kept going on. He said you two were gay. Is that true?" Genuine curiosity, I thought, no condemnation or hostility.

Blaine stared hard at him and then nodded, dropping his eyes. Danny looked to me, and I nodded also. Then my dad's friend said something that surprised the hell out of both of us. "It's okay boys. I understand. I am too." Thunderstruck, we walked the rest of the way in silence.

As we approached the house, I could see three patrol cars in the front yard, Brenda's car in the driveway, and Joe's truck sitting in the front lawn. I also saw several neighbors standing in their yards wondering what was going on. We ignored them all.


	9. Chapter 9

"I think I have these two under control. Why don't you guys head back to your zones? I'll wrap this up and file the report." The other cops said something, I don't remember what, and then got in their cars and drove away. Seeing all the excitement was over, the neighbours drifted into their houses. I idly wondered what gossip would come out of this.

Then I realized I had to face my parents and tell them I was gay. It was one thing to talk about it when I was ten miles removed from them, but another thing entirely to actually do it. I was so terrified I began to balk as Danny led us to the front door. He tightened his grip slightly and spoke in a calm quiet voice, assuring me that he would be there when we told my parents the whole story. Blaine must have realized what I was thinking, and hurting as he was, put his arm around me and held me tight, supporting me and telling me we were together.

We reached the threshold. I stopped and stared at the door. Why was I having such a problem with this? Blaine had for all intents and purposed lost his dad. Granted Joe was a bastard, but he was still his dad. I hadn't told my parents yet, but I was ready to turn and run. Before I could act on that, Danny reached over me and opened the door, taking away my options.

Brenda was the first person I saw. She had a bruise just starting to bloom on her left cheek. Seeing it was me and Blaine, she ran to the door and embraced us both, crying. Blaine wrapped his arms around her and held her close, asking her what had happened. Hearing him start sobbing, I absently put my hand on his shoulder. But I was looking beyond Brenda to my parents. They had a relieved look on their face, but also had an anxious expression. Obviously Brenda had told them some, but not all, of the details. I continued to stand there like a statue, just staring at them. Hannah was nowhere in sight.

I felt dizzy, like I'd fall over if I moved. The longer I stood there, the more worried my parents looked. I hoped my face didn't show anything. I had hidden things from them too long for my emotions to betray me now. Damn these tears.

Mom stood and came over to me. Brenda released me into my mother's arms. Try as I might, I couldn't hold it in any more. I bawled like a baby, not even trying to speak. I don't remember the last time I had cried like that.

I remember Dad awkwardly wrapping his arms around both of us, then his embrace strengthening. Then I saw his tears. My dad, crying? I had never seen him cry before that I could recall.

It was only a few minutes but it seemed like hours. Danny had shut the door and moved into the living room. When the rest of us got a grip again, he ushered us to take seats on the couch or the floor. I sat next to Blaine, who sat in front of his mom. If my parents thought this odd, I didn't see any sign.

Danny sighed and ran his hand through his thinning blond hair. "Okay, folks. I have to get all the details for the report. I have Brenda's portion, but I want to hear what the kids have to say. Blaine, remember that your dad can't hurt you now. Anything you say is between us and the walls. He won't hear it. Kurt, if you have anything to say, just chime in. I'm not leaving until I make sure you two are okay." He put special emphasis on that last sentence, letting us know he was there to support us, should things go bad.

Neither I nor Blaine spoke at first. Brenda began to recount the conversation she had had with Joe again. I watched my parents like a hawk, searching their faces for any reaction when Brenda stated, matter-of-factly, that Blaine had told her he was gay. I saw nothing in their faces, not even surprise. How much had she told them?

She ended her recitation at the point where Joe had grabbed my jacket. But it was obvious from her and my parents expression that there was more to the story than she had told. She was hiding the events that had given her that bruise.

Danny looked to Blaine and I expectantly, and didn't seem disappointed when we told him that was pretty much it. "What did you do after you got away?"

Blaine answered, "We took off to the fort. We cut it out of the brush last year. It's about a mile and a half away from the house. I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. I didn't even realize that Dad had almost caught Kurt until he caught up to me at the fort." He looked at me apologetically. I patted his knee. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dad's jaw tighten just a bit, while Mom's face remained impassive. Fear once again bloomed in my gut.

Blaine continued on, looking at the floor in concentration. He was actually looking beyond the floor. "I kind of lost it for a while, and by the time I got myself together it was dark. We decided to wait until around ten before heading back to get the bike, and come here, which we did." He was so brave and strong. It didn't seem to faze him that the world knew he was gay now. Well, my parents and Danny didn't actually constitute the world, but he must feel terribly exposed and vulnerable. I hoped I could be that strong for him.

As I watched him speak, I could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. God, what must he be thinking? His dad had rejected him, and any sense of control he had over his life had been stripped away because he was out, now, and not by his choice. What would I feel if my dad rejected me? Or Mom?

A hush settled over the room, disturbed only by the nervous shifting of my parents and Brenda in their seats. Danny was writing in his notepad. Looking up briefly and catching my eye, his expression asked if I was going to tell my part. Just as I started to speak, Mom broke the silence.

"Blaine, you are positive you are gay?" How was that any of her business? Blaine responded as if this were a normal, everyday inquiry about his health.

"I am sure. This isn't a phase." She studied him for a few moments with a contemplative expression. Blaine looked back, face emotionless.

"Are you gay, too, son?" I jumped as my Dad spoke, his face displaying deep anxiety and dread. My head was swimming, I couldn't catch my breath. I looked around the room from person to person in a near panic, and then caught Danny's eye. He gave an imperceptible nod, indicating that I should do what I felt in my heart, or that's how I took it. Then my gaze fell on Blaine. He was watching me, using his eyes to express his love for me as only he could. I knew I loved him, and I needed him.

I took a deep breath. Another. I squared my shoulders, and spoke with more confidence than I felt, by far.

"Yes, I am gay." Four words. Four simple words.

My father closed his eyes tight and looked heavenward, and then let his head fall to his chest. He stood up slowly, and walked to the front door. My heart fell.

Mom stood as my father opened the door and started to follow him out. Hearing her following, he said something in a voice so low I only caught the last part of it. "I need to think," he said. Mom looked at him for a few seconds and then nodded. Danny stood and followed after my dad without a word.

All I could think of was my dad was leaving. He didn't want me any more. He was abandoning me. I started shaking almost uncontrollably. Blaine put his arm around me, pulling me close, giving me some of his strength. The tremors eased a bit.

After he had shut the door, mom stared after Dad for a moment, then turned to come back in the living room.

With no hesitation, Mom came and knelt in front of Blaine and I. She studied us, seeing every detail. Blaine's arm tightened around me, bracing me for whatever may come. I am sure Mom saw it.

"Are you and Blaine a couple, then?" All I could do was nod. She looked to Blaine, then back to me. "Both of you need to hear this. It doesn't matter what your orientation is. You are the same person you were yesterday, last week, or last year. I love the both of you." She opened her arms, reached out, and gathered us into her arms. Soon after I felt Blaine's mom put her arms around us from behind.

"That goes for me too, boys. Blaine, there is no good time to tell you this," Brenda began, "and after what happened tonight, this is probably the worst time. Blaine, we are leaving your father. He's crossed the line and I won't put you in danger anymore."

Blaine turned around to look at his mom, breaking the embrace we were in. "Dad isn't coming back?" A mixture of excitement and regret?

"We have to get our things out before the police let him out tomorrow afternoon. For the time being, we'll be staying here until we can find a place."

Blaine saw the bruise blooming on his mom's cheek. "He hit you," he stated. She nodded.

"That's not why we're leaving though. Or rather I should say that it IS part of the reason, but not the whole reason. You don't need the details, and I won't tell you if you ask. This is the best thing for you. For us."

Blaine just nodded. Having regained my composure, I wriggled out of my mom's grasp and stood to stretch my legs. My stomach was still churning and I felt weak.

"Anyone want something to drink?" Blaine nodded, Brenda and Mom declined with a wave of their hand. The three of them continued to discuss the moving plans for tomorrow, but I paid no attention, to engrossed in my own thoughts.

Ambling into the kitchen, I examined what I was feeling. Mom seemed like she was, if not fine with everything, at least okay. But Dad? He ran out of the house without a word. Would he be back? Would he still want to be my father?

I decided I was in shock and wasn't fully feeling what was going on yet. Probably the adrenaline rush still. Must have been living on adrenaline for the whole day.

Mom entered the kitchen as I poured Blaine and myself a glass of Coke from the two-liter. She watched me as I finished pouring, replaced the cap, and returned the bottle to the fridge. She was making me nervous. As I turned around, I saw Dad and Danny having a heated discussion in the driveway. They weren't loud or anything, but I could tell they were both angry. I realized I needed to hear what Dad was saying. Walking to the living room, I gave Blaine his glass and set mine on the side table. Turning around, I headed toward the bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I climbed into the tub. There was a window above the tub that we kept cracked to keep fresh air in the room. I hadn't turned on the lights, so Danny and Dad wouldn't know I was listening.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dad was speaking in an urgent voice. "I don't know how to raise a straight kid much less a gay kid."

"Why do you care if he is gay or straight. He is your son, and he is the same son you have known and loved for the past thirteen years. Why is him being gay changing that? Do you like me any less because I am gay?"

"No, but you're not my son!"

What difference does that make? You think it makes you somehow less of a man since your son is gay? Are you afraid of what other people will think?"

"No, but-"

"But nothing! Kurt is of the bravest kids I have ever known. You forget I know what he goes through at school and I see what he goes through here, and we have talked about that before. He stood up for his friend and then came out to you. He is willing to give up everything for that boy in there just as you would for your wife! And you're worried about what others will think."

Dad was silent for a moment, just staring at Danny. "What do I do?"

"You can start by paying attention to the kid."

"I do."

"When is the last time you did anything with him?"

"I. Don't remember. I think we played catch."

**He had, in February.**

"You ignore him! You aren't comfortable dealing with him, so you don't. He is now starting to show his feelings and you can't deal with it, just like you can't deal with your own feelings. Well, you better learn. And damn quick. He needs you, and you need him. You can help each other if you'd only allow yourself to see it. I don't want you to feel like I am attacking you; that isn't my goal. I just want to make sure that BOTH of you are okay, and that you realize that he hasn't changed. He is your son, and you can be proud of him. He has a good head on his shoulders, and that is a credit to you and your wife both."

"I love him. I really do. I just don't know how to show it." I could see tears glistening in the streetlight.

"I know you love him. He loves you. And you will learn what he needs from you. But for God's sake, don't reject him again like you did when you walked out."

Dad's face went pale in the glow of the street lamp, a bleak look on his face. "He must think I hate him. Oh God no. I have to get in there." He turned to come in the house, but paused as Danny put his hand on Dad's shoulder. " want you to know I am here for both of you. Kurt and Blaine know about me. If I can help, call me."

A crooked smile came over my dad's face. "Now that I know about them, I'd like it if Kurt, at least, can spend some time with you, too. You may be able to offer him something I can't." Danny nodded as he removed his hand, and Dad headed for the door once more.

I scrambled out of the tub, flushed the toilet, opened the door, and walked into the living room just as Dad and Danny walked in.

Without hesitation, he walked up to me, put his hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eyes. He stared intently, trying to read my soul. I saw in his eyes many things. Uncertainty, pain, grief, anxiety. But above all of that, I saw love.

"Kurt, this changes nothing. I love you. All I ask is that you give me the chance to show you how much. I won't leave you, son. Not now, not ever." I buried my head into his chest, and he held me tight, like a father holding his son.


End file.
